


In Pursuit

by QueenOfTheDreamers (QueenOfDreamers)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 1700s, AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bellamort, F/M, Georgian Period
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-05-16 06:33:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 41,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19312591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfDreamers/pseuds/QueenOfTheDreamers
Summary: 1740. Bellatrix Black is now seventeen, and suitors are presenting themselves, ready to pursue her hand in marriage. Tom Riddle, a Half-Blood orphan recently returned to the Continent, is twenty-five years older than the other suitors. Shocking the Black family, Tom Riddle presents himself to Bellatrix alongside competitors like Rodolphus Lestrange. Who will Bellatrix choose? AU. Temporary hiatus.





	1. Suitors

_Devon, England_

_June 1740_

"Just because the Muggles are wearing it doesn't mean you have to wear it," said Druella Black to her daughter, and she pulled her traditional maroon robes more neatly about her.

"I rather like their gowns right now, Mother," Bellatrix said. She tried to take a deep breath, but her corset wouldn't allow it. She actually enjoyed the constricted feeling. She wasn't certain why, but she did. And if she was to be put before a dozen wizards tonight like some sort of prize to be won, then she was going to try and at least look lovely. "What are Cissy and Andromeda wearing?"

Druella scoffed softly, using her wand to Conjure a fan and then wisping it through the air. "Andromeda's being sour. She says she objects to this occasion on the grounds of  _a witch's right to fall properly in love_ , but your father and I just think she's jealous. She'll have her turn. Oh, and Cissy's got lovely gown robes in white and silver. I really wish I'd been able to convince you to wear a lighter colour."

"You know I prefer black, Mother," Bellatrix sighed. "And, anyway, they all know which witch they're vying for. Isn't this a bit awkward, having them all over at once? Shouldn't I receive them individually?"

"Well, you will receive them individually, darling, but tonight is just a chance for wizards from the Pureblood community to make themselves known as suitors, to declare their intention to court you to your father. This is how your father first made himself plain to my father, and -"

"Fathers before them. Yes. I'll just smile and nod and say  _thank you for coming, Master So-and-So_ ," Bellatrix huffed. "Do you think my reputation will do much damage?"

Druella pinched her lips and said nothing. She moved around Bellatrix's combs and brushes on her boudoir table, and she cleared her throat a little. Bellatrix Black had a reputation in wizarding Britain for making trouble. She'd gotten herself into all sorts of hot water at Hogwarts, where she'd been single-handedly responsible for Slytherin losing the House Cup handily four years in a row. Bellatrix had been denied a place on the Slytherin Quidditch team owing to her gender -  _only wizards this term,_  she'd been told - and had Hexed all the members of the squad into losing the next match in retaliation. She was a lightning bolt, people said. She was explosive and volatile, full of crackling energy and anger. Would that harm her chances of landing a husband from the Pureblood community? Bellatrix chewed her lip and wondered.

"Madam Druella? Miss Bellatrix?" Banny the House-Elf appeared in the doorway of Bellatrix's bedchamber. "The guests are beginning to arrive downstairs. Banny has all the refreshments ready. The strings are waiting for their cue to play. Shall Banny tell the instruments to begin?"

"Yes, Banny. Start the music. We'll be down in a moment," Druella said breathlessly. The House-Elf vanished with a  _crack_ , and Druella took a look over Bellatrix. She smoothed her elegant black raw silk skirts, and she touched at the curls she'd piled atop her head in a careful style. Druella smiled weakly but said, "You look beautiful, dear. They'll all want you badly."

Bellatrix rolled her eyes and laughed a little, following her mother out of the bedchamber. The two witches walked past the flickering sconces in the upstairs corridor, then made their way carefully down the broad wooden staircase of Black House. This was an elegant Georgian country house. Cygnus Black III, being the eldest son in his family, had earned himself a sufficient allowance to purchase this place new upon his marriage to the highly desirable Druella Rosier. Together with his wife and three daughters, he now enjoyed life in the country, with frequent sojourns to Diagon and Knockturn Alleys in London. As for Druella, she often visited her family in France, and she had sometimes taken the girls along in their youths.

Now the eldest daughter, Bellatrix, was seventeen years of age and ready to be married. The ballroom of Black House had been set up for the occasion, with a wide open space in the centre of the cream-coloured room. Tables with puff pastries stuffed with sausages, with mushrooms and carrots, and with sumptuous desserts had been set up along one wall. Another wall had several tables with various wines and several summer punches.

Cygnus Black III, Andromeda, and Narcissa Black were already in the ballroom. Narcissa, who was thirteen, and Andromeda, who was fifteen, were huddled together near the food. Cygnus was laughing in a booming voice with his friend, Jedediah Avery. Madam Abstinence Avery, who had what Bellatrix considered to be the most unfortunate name in the wizarding world, stood nearby looking bored. And their son, a handsome twenty-two-year-old with sandy blond hair and sparkling blue eyes, was getting punch. Asher Avery, that handsome son, was here as a suitor, and Bellatrix's stomach quivered a little at the thought of that.

"Cygnus, dear!" called Druella, and Cygnus turned and held out his arm.

"My darling Bellatrix!" he bellowed. "My beloved daughter, come to receive her suitors! Where is Asher? Get him over here!"

"Oh, my." Bellatrix huffed out a breath as she realised just how real all of this was. She approached her father and smiled a little at Mr and Madam Avery. She curtsied to them, and then again to Asher Avery when he walked up. Asher bowed politely, and when he spoke, there was a certain tinge to his voice that made Bellatrix frown a little. It was almost as though he were… feminine? Just a bit feminine?

"My goodness," Asher said, sipping his punch, "Don't you look marvelous, Miss Black. Wearing the latest Muggle fashion. A daring choice. I admire your gumption. The robe shops haven't got anything like that on offer. Did you buy your gown from Muggles?"

Bellatrix scowled. "I made it."

"Oh, did you  _really?_ " Asher Avery actually reached out then and petted at Bellatrix's skirt. She was shocked by the touch until he said, "Raw silk. My goodness. It's lovely."

Suddenly Bellatrix had a very sneaking suspicion that Asher Avery might prefer wizards to witches, and her mouth fell open. She blinked and smiled at him.

"Thank you. I'd love your opinion on the other gowns I've made for summer. All black, of course. I don't really do colour."

"But you'd look marvelous in red, and it's still so dangerous," Asher laughed. Bellatrix giggled a little and watched him sip his punch. She sighed. No, she thought. He wouldn't make a good husband for her. But perhaps they could be friends. She might like to have Asher Avery as a friend, she thought.

"Well, thank you so very much for coming tonight, Mr Avery," she said to Asher. "I look forward to seeing you again soon. To look over all of the lace and ribbon and whatnot."

"Sounds divine, Miss Black." Asher winked at her, and Bellatrix nodded. She spent the next twenty minutes forcing conversation with Hamish Burke and Symon Crabbe. By then, the ballroom was crowded and loud, and the esteemed Lestrange family shuffled their way forward, eager for Bellatrix's attention.

"Mr Black," said Mr Lestrange, "I'm sure you remember my two sons, Rabastan and Rodolphus."

"Of course!" cried Cygnus Black over the din of the strings and the conversations in the ballroom. He clapped Rabastan and Rodolphus on their forearms and gestured to Bellatrix. "You both know my lovely eldest daughter, Bellatrix."

"Rabastan and I were in the same year at Hogwarts together," Bellatrix smiled, staring up at the brother wizards with their matching brown curls and chestnut eyes. Rabastan was just a little taller than his elder brother, Rodolphus, who had a sharper and more handsome face. Rabastan frowned a little and said,

"Yes, I'll never forget the way you Hexed me into falling off of my broom because we wouldn't let you on the Quidditch team, Miss Black."

"Rabastan," warned Mr Lestrange, but Rodolphus warmly suggested,

"Perhaps if the Quidditch captain had done the right thing and granted admission to the best players regardless of sex, Slytherin would have been more successful."

Bellatrix smirked at Rodolphus, and he curled up half his mouth at her. He was marvelously good-looking, Bellatrix thought. She couldn't help but think so. His nose was long and straight, and his lips were full, and he had a dusting of freckles across his cheeks. Her heart fluttered a little as she stared at him.

"Rodolphus has secured a position in the Ministry of Magic," said Mr Lestrange quite proudly. "He's doing very important work for the Department of International Magical Cooperation."

"Let's not overstate anything, Father," Rodolphus said in a placating sort of voice, and he admitted, "I am the British ambassador to the Russian Ministry. I'll be doing a fair bit of travel for the position."

"Russia," breathed Bellatrix. "But that sounds terribly important. They must keep you awfully busy."

"I'm new in the position, but I look forward to settling in," Rodolphus said. "As I said, there will be a good deal of travel involved."

She knew why he was saying that. It was a warning of sorts. Anyone who married Rodolphus Lestrange right now was signing up for a husband who would be away to St Petersburg half the time. Would Bellatrix mind that so very much, she wondered? Would she mind terribly if she were alone in a country house of her own? Perhaps she could work for the Ministry herself.

"Thank you both so very much for coming," Bellatrix said to Rabastan and Rodolphus. She flashed Rodolphus an extra smile, and as Rabastan grumbled that it had been a pleasure to see Miss Black, Rodolphus' light brown eyes locked on Bellatrix's, and his throat bobbed. She nodded, and he said quietly,

"Thank you for having us, Miss Black. Truly an honour."

Then he bowed, low and respectful, and smiled when he stood. As Rabastan and Rodolphus walked away, Bellatrix grabbed her mother's arm and hummed,

"I quite like him. Rodolphus."

"Oh, darling. I don't know. He'll be gone all the time in Russia," Druella complained. Bellatrix scowled, looking from her mother to her father.

"Let them all have their turns courting you as suitors," Cygnus suggested. "Give them time as individuals. You'll get to know them better, and then you can make a choice."

Bellatrix opened her mouth to say something, but then a voice said,

"Good evening, Mr Black. Madam Black. Miss Black."

Bellatrix turned toward the voice, and she frowned in confusion. She did not recognise the wizard before her; was he a friend of her father's? He looked to be in his forties or so, about the same age as Cygnus, and indeed Cygnus' face lit up when he saw the man.

"Tom!" he exclaimed. "Tom Riddle, by my very eyes! Well, it's been absolutely ages! I'd heard you'd gone to the Continent!"

 _Tom Riddle?_  Bellatrix was baffled. Who was this man? She was still holding her mother's arm, and Druella leaned over and whispered in Bellatrix's ear as Cygnus and Tom Riddle began to talk.

"Tom Riddle is a Half-Blood," Druella hissed. "His mother was a Gaunt, or so he said. Father was a Muggle. He was an orphan, an urchin in the streets when Dumbledore found him and brought him to Hogwarts. He and your father were… erm… friends… at school."

Bellatrix blinked a few times and listened to the talk between Cygnus and this mysterious man.

"I spent a good deal of time on the Continent," Mr Riddle was saying, "studying all manner of things. I should like, sometime, to get the old group of boys back together again. You, Avery, Nott, Goyle, Crabbe, Lestrange, Macnair… I've been talking to everyone tonight. Perhaps one of you might host a dinner party or something."

"Is that why you've come, Tom?" Druella asked, her voice a bit tight. "Have you come to plan a get-together of the old friends from Hogwarts now that you're back in England?"

"As it happens, Druella," said Mr Riddle with a little smile toward Bellatrix, "I have come to present myself."

"As a  _suitor?_ " Druella spat. She sounded scandalised, and Bellatrix knew why. The other suitors were young, handsome wizards of the purest blood. This man was her parents' age, a Half-Blood who had disappeared from the country for years. The idea that he would dare equate himself with Rodolphus Lestrange, Hamish Burke, Symon Crabbe, and Asher Avery was positively ludicrous. Who did this Tom Riddle think he was?

"Miss Black," said Tom Riddle, speaking directly to Bellatrix and bypassing her shocked parents as he moved to stand before her, "I would be honoured if you would consider a summer luncheon on the lawn one day. Just some bread and cheese and such on a sunny day. A bit of conversation. Would you be amenable?"

His eyes were very dark, she noticed, and his features were awfully sculpted despite his age. His hair, which he wore pulled back into a queue, had little threads of grey. She found him to be good-looking, in spite of herself. Bellatrix sighed, glancing at her mother and her father, and she gulped.

"I would love to have a luncheon with you, Mr Riddle," she said. "Perhaps you can tell me about your travels to the Continent."

"Perhaps," he nodded, curling up his lips, "and I should like to hear about the time you Exploded a Gryffindor's cauldron in Potions class and lost your House fifty points."

Bellatrix laughed a little and nodded.

"Yes, I'll tell you all about that, Mr Riddle," she agreed. He bowed to her, touching at his chest, and she noticed a strange black ring on his finger. When he stood, he said to Cygnus,

"I'll be in touch to make plans, Cygnus. As old friends, and as a suitor for your daughter's hand."

"Quite so," Cygnus said, sounding halfway between confusion and exasperation. He glanced at Druella, who curtsied and said to Tom Riddle,

"So good to see you again, Tom. So glad you're back in England."

"It is good to be home. Miss Black. I look forward to our next meeting," said Mr Riddle. Bellatrix dipped low into a curtsy, and he bowed again before turning and walking away. Once he'd gone, Druella gathered near Cygnus and Bellatrix, and she exclaimed in a shrill little voice,

"This is ridiculous. He can't make a move for Bellatrix! Who does he think he is? He's an orphaned Half-Blood! He's no one!"

"Druella, if you think that man is  _no one_ , you weren't paying attention all those years ago," said Cygnus, reaching up to adjust his wig on his head. Bellatrix felt anxiety ripple through her core. She glanced to where handsome young Rodolphus stood talking with his brother and father. She looked over to where the older, mysterious Mr Riddle was getting himself a glass of wine. And then, frantically, she looked to the very obviously unavailable Asher Avery. Bellatrix felt pulled in every direction. She swallowed hard and said firmly to her parents,

"I will receive Rodolphus Lestrange, Asher Avery, and Tom Riddle. Out of all the suitors who presented themselves tonight, those are the ones with whom I will meet in person. I'm not interested in the others."

"Choosing three is acceptable, Bellatrix," Druella mused, "but those three? Asher Avery clearly… well… he clearly…"

"I want to be his friend," Bellatrix huffed, and Druella shut her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, she noted,

"Rodolphus Lestrange is going to be in Russia half the time. And Tom Riddle is a Half-Blood with no family and no estate. Really, Bellatrix. What about the Burke and Crabbe boys?"

"I will receive Rodolphus, Asher, and Mr Riddle," said Bellatrix firmly. "Father, please make arrangements for their visits."

"Of course, my dear," Cygnus said, sounding resigned. Bellatrix could tell that both her parents sincerely hoped that she chose to be abandoned half the time by an ambassador husband. Perhaps she would choose that, Bellatrix thought. She quite liked Rodolphus Lestrange. But she also wanted to talk about lace and buttons and silk with Asher, and she was sincerely looking forward to luncheon on the lawn with Tom Riddle.

 **Author's Note: Very much looking forward to exploring this Bellamort AU. For those following** _ **Blue Eyes and Brown,**_   **that will be finished in the next few days. Thank you so very much for reading and please do review if you get a chance!**


	2. Three Gentlemen

Bellatrix sat in the window seat of the library upstairs, looking out upon the sunny garden below. She sighed and turned her attention back to the book she was reading, a newly-released, rather scandalous tome about a Muggle woman who'd left her husband for a younger man. Bellatrix's mother would have gone white-faced to know that Bellatrix was reading this book, and Narcissa, too. But Andromeda had read it first and had handed it over with a smirk. Where Andromeda had gotten the book, Bellatrix didn't know. She didn't often ask questions of her strange little sister.

"Miss Bellatrix?"

Bellatrix snapped the book shut and shoved it away as Banny the House-Elf appeared in the doorway of the library. She heaved herself up to stand, which was difficult in her tightly bound corset. The low heels of her black leather shoes clacked on the wooden floor as Bellatrix stepped away from the window seat.

"Yes?"

"Master Asher Avery has arrived to present himself as a suitor for you, Miss Bellatrix," said Banny. "He is downstairs in the blue parlour with Master Cygnus and Madam Druella."

"Oh. Asher. Right. I'd forgotten he was coming today." Bellatrix licked her lip and glanced down at herself. Did she look all right, she wondered? She was wearing another gown of the current Muggle style, a black dress made of high-quality black wool. It had a tapered bodice that fit tightly round Bellatrix's corseted figure and revealed the swell of her small breasts. The trumpet-shaped sleeves had black lace trim. The full skirts were trimmed with black lace, as well. Bellatrix's naturally wild curls had been tamed into elegant ringlets coming over one shoulder, with volume at the top of her head, and were secured with a length of the same black lace that adorned the gown. Bellatrix wore a black cameo pendant necklace with the likeness of her great-grandmother. She looked fine, she thought. She looked perfectly fine to be receiving a suitor.

Bellatrix walked with Banny out of the library, but first she pulled her wand out of a hidden pocket in her dress skirts and aimed it at the book Andromeda had given her. She Banished the book to a shelf where she knew her mother wouldn't find it, and then she left the library. She tucked her wand away again and walked carefully down the broad staircase, listening to the low sound of voices coming from the parlour. The Enchanted clock in the corridor chimed two in the afternoon, but instead of just tolling the hour, it played a merry little tune and presented dancing figures from the clock face. Bellatrix's parents had been gifted the clock as a wedding gift, Bellatrix knew, though Bellatrix thought it was a dancing, singing clock was an awfully strange thing to give someone at their marriage.

"Good afternoon, Mr Avery," Bellatrix said as she stepped into the blue and white parlour. The curtains were drawn to let in loads of sunlight, and in the daytime, Asher Avery looked even more striking. His eyes matched the blues of the carpets and curtains. His sandy blond hair was alluring, and he'd combed and curled it perfectly. He flew to his feet and bowed, having quickly set down his cup of tea. Muggles had spread the notion of tea to the Magical community, and even among the most hard-nosed Purebloods, the drink had quickly caught on. Banny had obviously made tea for the Blacks and for Asher before coming to fetch Bellatrix.

"Miss Black," said Asher warmly, "It is so magnificent to see you again. Thank you kindly for receiving me."

"Mother and Father, if you'll excuse Mr Avery from your little tea party," Bellatrix said, "I had hoped to discuss my summer wardrobe with him."

She winked at Asher, who grinned back. Druella touched at her forehead and sighed a little, and Cygnus just seemed confused.

"You mean to take him… upstairs?" Cygnus asked incredulously. "To your bedchamber?"

"Just to look over my gowns, Father," Bellatrix assured him. "It's all quite innocent, I assure you."

"We really do mean to speak of silks and buttons, sir," Asher Avery smiled. Cygnus Black scowled, and Druella huffed a breath, but Bellatrix held out a hand and beckoned for Asher.

"Do come," she bade him. "I have so much to show you."

Asher turned and bowed to Druella and Cygnus, and then he followed Bellatrix out of the parlour and down past the clock. They climbed the stairs together, and she led him through the upstairs corridor until they reached her bedchamber. In here was her four-poster bed with its dark blue brocade bedding, its dark wooden furniture, and its window that looked out over the fountain in front of the house. Bellatrix tossed the window open for some fresh air and gestured to the bed.

"Do have a seat, Mr Avery."

"Asher, please," he insisted. Bellatrix pulled open her wardrobe and extracted a shiny silk gown, holding it up for Asher to examine.

"What do you think of this one?" she asked. "I'm a bit hesitant about it, because the silk is almost iridescent, but I do love the black pearls sewn in."

"Ooh. The black pearls are a very fine touch," Asher said. "Save this one for nighttime, to be certain. It'll look marvelous in the candlelight."

"Do you think so?" Bellatrix pulled it against her body and flashed him a winning smile. "Would you dance with me in this, Asher?"

He laughed. "I think any wizard would dance with you if you were wearing that, Bellatrix."

She sighed and put the dress back into the wardrobe. She pulled out a pair of black velvet shoes with silver buckles, and she asked,

"Should I change the buckles?"

Asher tipped his head. "Better all black, I should think. The silver's jarring."

"I like your opinions on clothes," Bellatrix told him. "I like talking to you. Do you like to talk about books?"

"I like to talk about all sorts of things," Asher nodded. "Books. Food. Music. Clothes."

Bellatrix hesitated, putting the shoes back into the wardrobe and shutting it. She went over to the bed and sat beside Asher, and she asked quietly,

"Is that what a marriage with you would mean, Asher? Talking about things?"

He was quiet for a long moment, and then he whispered. "I haven't a choice about whether or not I take a wife. It's somewhat mandatory."

Bellatrix waited for him to meet her eyes, and she stared into the beautiful blue of his gaze for a long while. Finally she said,

"I want to talk about things with you. I want to be your friend."

"But not my wife," Asher guessed. Bellatrix gulped. She let out a shaking breath and admitted,

"I think… I want a husband who… wants me."

Asher nodded. He reached for Bellatrix's ringlets and fingered them slowly.

"Your hair is very pretty," he said, "and you've painted your lips perfectly. But I know you know I'm not complimenting you out of lust."

"Right." She reached up and covered his hand with hers, bringing his knuckles to her lips. She lowered their hands, and she asked, "Will you be my friend, Asher?"

"That would be a profound honour," he nodded. "Even once you choose the right sort of husband."

"Thank you." Bellatrix stood, and Asher rose with her. He followed her out of her bedroom and down the stairs again, and Bellatrix led him back to the blue and white parlour. Cygnus and Druella were still in there, and Asher bowed once more to them as they stood from their tea.

"Mr and Madam Black," Asher said gracefully, "you have the most beautiful and wondrous daughter any wizard could ever want. I regret that I am not her choice, but I look forward to our friendship. Thank you very much indeed for receiving me today."

"Oh. Well. Erm… thank you for coming, my boy," Cygnus said, flicking his eyes to Bellatrix. Druella pinched her lips, not seeming as surprised as her husband. She curtsied to Asher and called,

"Banny! Come see Mr Avery out."

* * *

Bellatrix moved through the rose garden, her wide black skirts brushing against the bushes. One of the bushes' thorns caught against Bellatrix's skirts, and she had to pause to free herself. She sighed and kept walking, strolling slowly and humming an old tune. It was a lullaby her mother had sung to her when she'd been small. Something about a cat who had sailed to China. Bellatrix couldn't remember the words. She drifted her fingertips over the red roses and heard a voice from the back of the house call,

"Bellatrix! Come quickly!"

Bellatrix looked up to see Narcissa, her blonde hair perfectly coiffed around her angelic face, standing at the doors that led out from the house. Bellatrix scowled and gathered up her skirts, emerging from the rose garden and hustling up toward the house. Narcissa stepped outside, and as Bellatrix approached, Narcissa hissed,

"Rodolphus Lestrange is here!"

"What?" Bellatrix yelped. "Without any sort of prior arrangement? Mother and Father will be apoplectic!"

"Apparently, he's leaving for Russia tomorrow and will be gone for two months, and he just  _had_  to come before departing," Narcissa said. "So come inside and see him!"

"Oh, good gracious." Bellatrix gulped and followed Narcissa into the house. They walked through the kitchens, where Banny was whipping up some small hors d'oeuvres to amuse the unexpected guest. They walked through the formal dining room, and out into the corridor. Narcissa split off from Bellatrix, heading for the stairs, and she whispered,

"Good luck."

Bellatrix cleared her throat and whipped out her wand. She used spells to quickly freshen herself up. She'd been out in the heat for hours; she was sure she smelled like a pig. Her hair was probably a rat's nest, too. So she deodorised and neatened herself, grateful that she'd at least dressed decently today. She tucked her wand away and sighed, walking toward the blue and white parlour. As she approached the room, she could see that Rodolphus Lestrange was standing alone with her father. Druella was at a friend's house today, Bellatrix knew, visiting and practising needlepoint spellwork. So it was Cygnus who stood giving Rodolphus a rather stern look as the young wizard murmured,

"... a great deal of upheaval in St Petersburg owing to the relations between their Magical and Muggle communities, so I have to… oh! Miss Black!"

He turned at once and bowed. Bellatrix dipped into a curtsy, her skirts billowing around her as she bowed her head. She realised just how casually she'd styled her hair, having pulled it into a thick braid over one shoulder instead of the customary curls or pile. She felt ashamed of her appearance, all of a sudden, but, then, Rodolphus had come very unexpectedly.

"I do apologise, so very profusely, for coming unannounced, Miss Black," Rodolphus said, sounding nervous. "My new position at the Ministry is, admittedly, more demanding of my time than I had perhaps initially anticipated. I must leave tomorrow for St Petersburg, and I would have been devastated if I had not given myself the opportunity to see you one more time before I'd gone."

"I shall leave you two to tea and pastries," Cygnus said. "Good to see you again, my boy."

"Sir." Rodolphus bowed once more as Cygnus left the room. Bellatrix stepped farther inside and smiled a little up at Rodolphus. She gestured at the twin toile divans facing one another, and she and Rodolphus sat. Bellatrix perched herself carefully on the edge of one divan and said,

"Narcissa tells me that you will be gone for two months, Mr Lestrange."

"Yes. At least that," he nodded. "Overland travel to Russia, even using Magical means, is difficult and can't be attempted too frequently. Adding to that, there is a complex and frankly very intimidating political situation unfolding in Russia at the present time. Relations between their wizarding world and the Muggles of their country have become untenable. Their interactivity with other wizarding nations is also, to put it mildly… belligerent. Wizarding Russia must be reined in, and that is no small feat. I shall be taking others with me to assist with the task at hand, but there is no saying how long it will take. I do apologise, Miss Black. I have presented myself as a suitor, and now I am leaving."

"But you will be back," Bellatrix reasoned. She studied his long, straight nose, his freckles, his chestnut eyes. She chewed her lip a little. "You'll figure out all that mess in Russia and then you'll be back."

"There will always be a mess in Russia, I think," Rodolphus warned. Bellatrix nodded. She stared at her hands in her lap and asked softly,

"Do you not wish to marry me, Mr Lestrange?"

"I do wish to marry you, Miss Black," he said. "I only want for you to understand what will be involved in that endeavour."

She nodded. She raised her eyes to his and just stared for a long moment. She asked him,

"Will I be able to write to you? Where you are in Russia?"

"The owls will take some time to get to me, but they'll find me eventually," Rodolphus told her. "Would you like me to write to you? I shall write, if you will receive my letters."

"I would like that very much," Bellatrix said. She remembered the way he'd defended her to Rabastan, the way he'd defended her Hexing the Quidditch team who had shut her out. She liked this wizard. He was handsome and kind and intelligent. She huffed a breath and whispered, "Yes, please write."

He curled up his lips and nodded. "I shall read all of your letters, and I shall gladly respond. Now. I am sorry to go, but I really must prepare to leave the country. I thank you very kindly for receiving me today, Miss Black, and I look forward to our correspondence. And, yes. I do wish to marry you."

Bellatrix rose, drawing Rodolphus to his feet, and she immediately dipped into a curtsy.

"Thank you for coming today, Mr Lestrange."

* * *

"Bellatrix!"

She jolted awake, sitting up and whipping back the curtains on her bed. The sunlight was blinding, and it felt late. Had she slept in? Bellatrix landed on her feet with a thunk and padded quickly out of her bedchamber to see Andromeda emerging from her own bedchamber, fully dressed in a coral-coloured Muggle-style dress.

"You'd best get yourself dressed and ready for that old man who's coming to court you," Andromeda scoffed. "It's half past nine, and he'll be here at noon."

Bellatrix gasped. Today was the day Tom Riddle was coming for luncheon. Bellatrix rushed over to the window in her room and gaped out onto the front lawn. There, beyond the fountain, Banny was waving his arms and setting up a small table with a crisp tablecloth. Two chairs sat on opposite sides of the table, and Bellatrix breathed a shaking sigh.

Tom Riddle. The forty-something Half-Blood who had vanished to the Continent for years, who had dared appear at her suitors' party to present himself alongside the most elite young wizards. Tom Riddle, who had been  _friends_  with her father at Hogwarts, who had the darkest eyes Bellatrix had ever seen. Her chest and stomach fluttered as she threw open her wardrobe and examined her choices of gown. She finally pulled out a black-and-gold brocade masterpiece and stared at it for a long while. Would it do? Yes, she hoped. It would have to do.

She spent a half hour using spells to arrange her hair. She finally wound up with her curls carefully arranged atop her head and a single thick ringlet over her right shoulder. She applied Stay All Day rouge to her lips and cheeks, and she put on her black cameo pendant. She used Long Lasting Perfume in rose scent, and finally she slipped on the black velvet shoes she'd changed in the way Asher had recommended. She tucked her wand into the pocket of the gown she'd made for herself, and she walked out of her room.

"Oh, Bellatrix."

She turned to see Narcissa, who was wearing a hunter green set of more traditional robes, staring at her as she walked out of the library.

"You look marvelous."

"Are you certain?" Bellatrix asked, and Narcissa nodded so hard it looked like her little head would fall off. Bellatrix shut her eyes for a moment, and then the door chime sounded. Bellatrix's eyes sprang back open, realising just how long she'd taken to get ready, and she whispered frantically, "Oh, help. He's here."

She listened as the door opened, as Banny spoke to Mr Riddle for a moment, and then she heard her father's booming voice in the foyer of the house.

"Tom! So very good to see you again."

"Bellatrix, go downstairs!" Narcissa hissed, but Bellatrix felt frozen where she stood. Narcissa made a shooting motion with her hand and urged her sister again, "Go down there!"

"Tom!" Druella cried. "Hello. Thank you for coming."

"Bellatrix!" Narcissa walked over and rotated Bellatrix's shoulders. "Go."

Bellatrix took the biggest breath her corset would allow, gripped the railing of the stairwell, and walked downward. He came into view - handsome Mr Riddle, standing there in brown velvet breeches and a matching waistcoat with a lighter weight robe over it all. His slightly greying hair was pulled back into a queue, and he turned his dark eyes toward the stairs as Bellatrix approached. Those dark eyes flashed, and then he dipped into a bow. He rose, his lips curled a little, and he said very warmly,

"Miss Black. What a very fine day for a luncheon. I confess I've come hungry."

"Have you, Mr Riddle?" Bellatrix gave him a playful little look as she neared the bottom of the stairs. "Don't worry. We've got all manner of things to satisfy you."

He actually laughed a little at that, though Druella and Cygnus looked scandalised. Tom Riddle stifled a smile and looked on as Bellatrix dipped into a curtsy for him. She rose and said in a sly little voice,

"I'm starved, too, as it happens. Shall we go eat?"

**Author's Note: Whew! So Asher's going to make a great friend but not a great husband, Rodolphus' absenteeism could prove to be a problem, and Tom Riddle's lack of pedigree and flirtatious nature are only a few of his issues. Now. Who's ready for some lunch conversation? Mwah hahaha. This AU is just way too much fun. Thank you so much for reading. Please do review.**


	3. Mr Riddle

Bellatrix spread some melted brie cheese - a favourite of hers ever since she'd spent childhoods visiting Rosier relatives in France - onto some toasted bread. She slathered some pear jam over it and took a delicate, careful bite. As she did, Mr Tom Riddle sipped from his teacup, and he cleared his throat a little.

"Thank you again for having me today, Miss Black," he said. "It is truly an -"

"An honour. Yes." Bellatrix gave him a look as she dabbed her lips with a napkin. She folded her hands in her lap and sat up straighter. "Mr Riddle, I would be remiss not to ask you why it is that you have chosen to present yourself as a suitor."

His hard face softened. "You mean because I am your father's age, and because I am a Half-Blood, and because I am a longtime bachelor."

"Well, I didn't know that last bit," Bellatrix mused. She took another bite of her brie and toast. As she chewed, Mr Riddle picked up a slice of apple from his plate and dipped it into a puddle of honey. He stared at the apple and sighed, and then he said,

"I may come from unremarkable origins, Miss Black, but I've absolutely no intention of remaining humble."

"No?" Bellatrix sipped her own cup of hot, sweetened tea, and she set the cup back down. "So you want an elite, Pureblood bride, with money and prestige, to help you climb. Is that it?"

"It is a bit more complicated than that," said Mr Riddle. He bit off the piece of apple that had honey on it, and he spent a moment chewing. It was a beautifully warm and sunny day, but their table was situated in the shade of the house. He looked over the expansive lawn and then turned his eyes to Bellatrix and said, "If all I wanted was a pretty young witch with lots of money, I would have attended the suitors' party for Amity Selwyn two weeks ago. But I did not go to Amity Selwyn's party, Miss Black."

"Why not?" Bellatrix asked, and Mr Riddle set down his apple, wiping his fingers on his napkin. His queue of hair blew a little in the breeze, and his dark eyes were quite serious as he told Bellatrix,

"I'm not interested in Amity Selwyn. She was a Hufflepuff who did everything she was meant to do. She listens well, and I hear she's quite skilled with needlepoint charms and magical gardening."

Bellatrix's stomach twisted just a little. "And as for me?"

"As for you," said Mr Riddle, "I hear that you managed to get yourself three Saturdays in a row scrubbing cauldrons by hand because you turned another Slytherin girl into a toad."

Bellatrix tipped her chin up and said, "She was making fun of my hair in the dormitory, night after night. I'd had enough."

"Had you?" Mr Riddle was very serious. He reached for his teacup and sipped. He set the cup down and murmured, "I like the sort of people who lash out when they've had enough."

Bellatrix felt her cheeks go warm. A lightning bolt, they called her in the wizarding world. She was full of crackling energy and anger. And she'd been worried that such traits would earn her the scorn of wizards. But here Tom Riddle was, telling her that he liked the way she Hexed people. Bellatrix felt her lips part a little, and she asked cautiously,

"What were you doing on the Continent all those years, Mr Riddle?"

He cleared his throat, took another bite of apple and honey, sipped more tea, and finally met her eyes.

"I was studying Dark magic."

Bellatrix felt breathless then. Her corset was too tight, she thought. She blinked quickly, studying Mr Riddle's face. She examined his rough skin, his thin but shapely lips, his very dark eyes… Dark magic.

"What sort of Dark magic?" she inquired, and his night-black eyes narrowed. He touched his napkin to his lips and tipped his head.

"If I tell you, what will you think, I wonder? Hmm. Necromancy. Poisoning. The lives of Dark creatures and Beings. Curses and Cursed objects. Shall I tell you more, Miss Black?"

"Yes, please." She nodded quickly, and he looked a little surprised. His eyes flashed a bit, and his tongue crept out to wet his lip. He said quietly,

"Another time, perhaps. Those are conversations for… well. Today is a beautiful, sunny day. We mustn't speak of mummies and Hexes, eh?"

Suddenly she realised why he'd steered them away from their topic of conversation. She heard swishing behind her, and Mr Riddle said jovially,

"Druella. Shall I Conjure a third chair?"

"No, Tom. I just came to check on you two." Druella Black stepped up to the table, and Bellatrix noted that her mother seemed awfully sceptical of Mr Riddle. So Bellatrix decided to lean in to the wonderful luncheon she'd been enjoying, and she exclaimed, just a bit too loudly,

"We've been having the most marvelous conversation, Mother."

"Have you?" Druella's eyebrows flew up. "How wonderful. Shall I have Banny transform the food to the dessert? I believe he's made little cakes for you."

"That will be fine. Thank you for the hospitality… Madam Black." Tom Riddle bowed his head, and Bellatrix suddenly realised just how long her parents had known this man. Her mother was several years younger than her father, and apparently Tom Riddle had been 'friends' with Cygnus in school. So they had all known one another for decades at this point. Bellatrix felt a bit left out, if she was honest. But she flashed her mother a little smile as she walked away, her skirts  _swish-swish-swishing_ , and then Bellatrix said in a low voice to Mr Riddle,

"Promise me you'll tell me all about it sometime? About the terrible things you learnt on the Continent?"

His lips curled up a little. "Only if you'll promise to tell me all about the way you Hexed the entire Slytherin Quidditch team. I want details."

Bellatrix grinned. He actually liked her because of who she was, not just because she was the wealthy and good-looking daughter of Cygnus Black III. Tom Riddle liked her for her wicked streak. He liked the Dark undercurrent pulsing in her veins.

"Where do you live?" Bellatrix blurted, and suddenly Mr Riddle's smile faltered. He hesitated, and then he admitted,

"I'm only just recently back from the Continent, so my dwelling is… erm… simple. Unassuming."

Bellatrix shrugged. "But where is it? What is it?"

His mouth fell open a little, and his cheeks pinked. He picked up his teacup and sipped again, and when he set the cup down, he said,

"It is a… cottage. In a village called Emelle, near Dover. It overlooks the sea; it is quite peaceful and very scenic. But it is small and plain. So. I do not anticipate your parents' approval on that front, but, again, I have aspirations of -"

"It sounds beautiful," Bellatrix told him. He stared at her, and she turned up the corners of her mouth at him. She looked up at the magnificent Georgian house in which she'd been raised, glancing round the immaculate gardens. She thought of the spacious formal dining room, of the blue parlour. She thought of the strange clock in the corridor. And then she thought of a humble little cottage overlooking the sea, wind-whipped and kissed by salt air, and her eyes watered a little as she murmured again, "It sounds beautiful."

She gazed into his deep, dark eyes for a long while, and at last he said in a quiet voice,

"Your House-Elf has sent us cakes."

They ate the little cream-filled cakes in quiet peace. The breeze that washed over them was warm and pleasant, and the scent of flowers from the gardens filled the summer air. But as they finished up their dessert, Bellatrix lamented out loud,

"I do not think my mother is going to allow me to marry you, Mr Riddle."

"No. Probably not," Tom Riddle agreed. "Druella Rosier looked askance at me before she even married Cygnus Black, and afterward she regarded me as nothing more than an urchin plucked off the streets and thrust into a world where I could never belong. Nevermind that my deceased mother was a member of one of the most noble Pureblood houses. It never mattered to Druella. Tom Riddle was just an orphan bearing his filthy Muggle father's name, come in off the dirty London roads to pollute the world in which Druella so happily dwelled."

"And now you have come for her daughter," Bellatrix said, shaking her head. "I don't know how I'm meant to make her see sense on it."

"I…" Mr Riddle looked out on the lawn thoughtfully and sighed. "I admit that it appears as though I have nothing to offer you. I am old. I am poor. I have no living pedigree. But my intentions, my aspirations, are to become a great wizard, and I should like very much to have a great witch beside me for that."

Bellatrix's throat felt tight. A great witch? Did he think she was that? Did he think she would help him become something wonderful?

"I should like very much to have you as a wife, Miss Black, not only because you are a lovely young member of the House of Black, but because of the magic you have chosen to perform in your life thus far." He turned his eyes to her. "I wish there were some way of convincing your mother that there is some value in a wizard who holds you in esteem for the witch that you are."

Bellatrix chewed her lip so hard she thought it might bleed. She thought of Rodolphus, who had gone off to Russia. Did he want her because of who she was, or did he just want her because she was Bellatrix Black? At least Rodolphus was a wealthy member of the Lestrange family who would provide her with a comfortable life… a life alone whilst he spent half his time in Russia on diplomatic missions. Bellatrix thought of Asher Avery, the friend who could never want her the way wizards were meant to want their wives. Would Tom Riddle ever  _want_  Bellatrix that way? Would she ever  _want_  him?

"Miss Black?"

She jolted to attention to see a look of concern on his face, and he asked cautiously,

"Have I said something to offend you?"

"N-No. Quite the opposite," Bellatrix shut her eyes and dared to ask, "Will you come back, Mr Riddle?"

She got no answer, so she slowly opened her eyes. He nodded, smiling just a little, and he said,

"If you'll have me, and if your parents will allow it, then I would be honoured to be granted a second calling. Thank you, Miss Black."

"Bellatrix," she said softly, but he shook his head and insisted,

"No. Not yet, I don't think. I'll earn that privilege. Shall we go inside? I had a marvelous luncheon."

As they walked back toward the house, Bellatrix pondered everything he'd said to her. He had studied Darkness on the Continent. He had studied Necromancy and Curses. He liked the way she'd Hexed people. He lived in a little cottage by the sea. Her mind spun as she opened the door and he followed her inside. Bellatrix led him down the corridor toward the blue parlour, where she knew her mother and father would be waiting. Sure enough, Druella and Cygnus both rose when Bellatrix and Tom Riddle neared the room.

"Did you have a nice meal, Tom?" asked Cygnus, and Mr Riddle gave his old friend a little smile.

"The food was delightful, the company of your daughter even more so," he said. "Miss Black is simply astonishing, and I confess myself quite stricken by her."

Bellatrix grinned and immediately said,

"So you must come back, Mr Riddle. You simply must call again. Please say you will."

Mr Riddle feigned a look of surprise and then turned to Cygnus and Druella, who wore a look of tight indignation. Her hands knit together, but she said in an airy voice,

"Naturally he is welcome again, if that is what you want, Bellatrix. Mr Riddle, are you quite available this Friday? Perhaps a stroll in the gardens and some conversation in the sunroom, hmm?"

"That sounds wondrous," Bellatrix breathed, far too enthusiastically. But Mr Riddle smiled a little at her, bowed a bit, and said,

"I look forward to Friday, Miss Black. More than I can say. Cygnus… any word on getting everyone together?"

"As it happens, Tom," Cygnus said, "I am having Avery, Lestrange, Crabbe, and Goyle over for a wizards' supper tomorrow evening. Care to join us and make it an even six?"

"I would be honoured. Thank you." Mr Riddle bowed his head. Bellatrix's heart thumped. Tomorrow was Wednesday. If he was coming to a wizards' dinner on Wednesday and then calling upon her on Friday, she would see him twice more this week. Druella, for her part, seemed to think this was the worst news in all the world, but her grimace managed to paste on a false expression of goodwill.

"Until tomorrow, then, Tom," said Cygnus. "Seven o'clock to dine."

"Thank you, Cygnus," Mr Riddle said again. He turned to Bellatrix and took her hand, bringing her fingers to his lips. He kissed her knuckles, and Bellatrix felt her knees go weak. He stared at her as he held her hand, and he said meaningfully, "Thank you so kindly for the magnificent luncheon. I did so enjoy speaking with you; you are a fascinating witch, and I have so much more I wish to say to you. So much more I wish to hear."

"Yes, Mr Riddle," Bellatrix breathed. He lowered her hand, and he assured her,

"I shall call on you again on Friday."

"Thank you, Mr Riddle," Bellatrix whispered. He flicked his eyes to her mother then, and he smirked just a little bit.

"Good day, Madam Black. Thank you kindly for having me today."

"Good day, Tom," Druella said. "Banny! Show Mr Riddle out."

Tom Riddle bowed to the Black family and flashed them all small smiles again before walking out of the parlour with the House-Elf. Once he'd gone, Bellatrix put her hands to her stomach, and she complained,

"I think I'm going to faint."

"Don't be a silly little girl," Druella hissed. "He's an old, poor man. He's a terrible match."

"It's like Father said, Mother," Bellatrix snapped at Druella. "You weren't paying attention all those years ago."

Without another word, she whirled on her black velvet shoe and strode quickly from the blue parlour.

**Author's Note: Thank you for accommodating my hypergraphia as this story runs away from me a bit. I would really, really appreciate your feedback on this story as I update. Thank you so much for reading.**


	4. Baked Pumpkin

_Dear Mr Lestrange,_

_I do hope your journey to St Petersburg has been as pleasant as possible. I understand that the work you have been sent to do is complicated at best, but I send my best wishes that you find rest and comfort in Russia. Tell me more about this mysterious land, for I wish to know. What sort of food do their witches and wizards enjoy? What music do they listen to? What sort of robes are in fashion? Is it cold there, even in the summer, or do they enjoy a respite from the frigidity for a little while?_

_I am sorry for asking so many questions. I am a curious creature. Perhaps you knew that about me. I wish to know more of you, as well, Mr Lestrange. Tell me what sorts of things bring you joy, and what things make you unhappy. If indeed you wish to marry me, I hope you will deign to grant me more information on many fronts. I hope to learn from you._

_Please do be well and write to me as quickly as you may. I eagerly await your reply and wish you all the best in your travel and work._

_Very sincerely,_

_Miss Bellatrix Black_

Bellatrix blew on the ink to dry it, and then she folded her parchment into thirds. She poured a glob of black wax upon the parchment and pressed her heavy silver Black family seal into it. She turned the parchment over and dipped her quill into the ink again, writing,

_Master Rodolphus Lestrange_

_Embassy of the British Ministry of Magic_

_St Petersburg, Russia_

Bellatrix used her little punch to create a hole in the corner of the letter, and she threaded black velvet ribbon through the hole. She tied it to the leg of the owl that was waiting on her desk, and she said firmly to the owl,

"I know it's a long journey, and I know you'll need rest. But I want to you find him. Fly and find Rodolphus Lestrange at the British magical embassy in St Petersburg, and deliver him my letter. Go now."

She watched as the owl took flight, soaring out of the window and majestically sailing off on a breeze down the lawn.

* * *

Bellatrix and Narcissa huddled on the stairs, peering down, hidden just out of view as they spied the way their father stood in the foyer awaiting his guests.

"Can't believe Mother made us all eat separately in the kitchens," Narcissa hissed, and Bellatrix hummed,

"Well, the entire thing's got Andromeda in enough of a tizzy that she's reading in the library. Somehow she keeps materialising all these Muggle books; no idea where she gets them."

"Hmm." Narcissa gripped the newel post at the top of the stairs and stood for a moment, stretching her legs. When she crouched again, her silver silk skirts billowed about her. Bellatrix shoved her sister's skirts away and laughed a little, and then there was a sharp knock on the front door of the house. Banny the House-Elf opened the door, and in walked Jedediah Avery. He clasped arms with Cygnus Black III as he meandered into the foyer, and Cygnus exclaimed,

"Avery, my good man. Thank you for coming. A pleasure, as always."

"And thank  _you_  for hosting my son Asher for his calling," said Jedediah, whose wig was immaculately powdered. He lowered his voice. "I am well aware that Asher is not every witch's… erm… well, he's not to everyone's taste."

"Yes. Well. He and Bellatrix will be very fine friends, I should think," Cygnus said rather awkwardly. Jedediah looked a bit embarrassed and murmured,

"We must find him a bride somehow. I do not know precisely how, Cygnus, but -"

He was cut off then by more knocking on the door. Both Cygnus and Avery turned, and Banny opened the door to reveal Mr Crabbe and Mr Goyle, tight-knit friends who were rarely seen outside each other's presence. Neither of their sons had been chosen as suitors, but they hardly seemed aggrieved as they came barrelling into the Black family home.

"Cygnus, you old cad!" exclaimed Mr Goyle. "What's for dinner? Pheasant, I hope."

"It's always pheasant with Cygnus," said Mr Crabbe in a droll tone. He broke into laughter, and then Cygnus Black threw his hands up and said,

"You've guessed it. It's pheasant."

"Wizards are so strange," Narcissa whispered into Bellatrix's ear. Bellatrix rolled her eyes as Mr Lestrange was shown into the house. He seemed more serious and quiet than the others, and they all started questioning him about Rodolphus.

"I haven't heard anything from him; he's only left a few days ago," said Mr Lestrange, and Bellatrix thought of the letter she'd sent off to Rodolphus. She hadn't heard anything back, either. Her stomach clenched a little as she wondered whether Rodolphus would write back to her.

"Hope you're in the mood for pheasant," said Mr Crabbe. "That's what's for dinner. No surprises there; we are at Cygnus' house, after all."

"Pheasant sounds excellent," said Mr Lestrange, and Bellatrix thought she could guess where Rodolphus had learnt his diplomatic skills. "But where's Tom? You said Tom Riddle was coming?"

The room went quiet then, and suddenly Mr Crabbe and Mr Goyle didn't seem to be in such a joking mood.

"I'd heard he spent years on the Continent learning all manner of Dark things," said Mr Crabbe. "How to raise the dead and the like."

"It's impossible to raise the dead, you blithering idiot," Mr Goyle spat. But before they could argue anymore, there was knocking on the door, and everyone jumped just a little. Narcissa's hand went to Bellatrix's shoulder, and Bellatrix felt her heart speed up in her chest a bit. Banny opened the door once again, and now Tom Riddle came walking into the house, wearing formal dark green breeches and waistcoat with an elegant matching robe-jacket. He bowed to the assembled group and said tightly,

"My old friends. How good to see you all in one place again."

"T-Tom." Mr Crabbe cleared his throat. "We were just saying how much we were looking forward to seeing you."

"Yes, I know." Mr Riddle stepped into the foyer. He turned to Mr Goyle and said in an airy sort of voice, "It is not at all impossible to raise the dead, Goyle. It just takes a little effort."

The silence then was positively deafening. Mr Riddle rocked back and forth on his feet and cleared his throat, and he said,

"Pheasant. That will be nice. Cygnus, two of your daughters are watching us from the stairs. May I quickly greet them before we dine?"

"What… erm… of course." Cygnus sounded utterly incredulous, shocked by Tom Riddle's mental abilities, and the others stood in slack-jawed disbelief, as well. Mr Riddle strode over to the stairs and walked up a few steps. Narcissa yelped and tried to dash away, but Bellatrix yanked her down to where they'd been crouching for twenty minutes now. As Mr Riddle came more clearly into view, he bowed a little and smirked.

"Good evening, ladies," he said. "I do hope you've already enjoyed a fine dinner."

"Yes. We had pheasant, too," Narcissa squeaked. Bellatrix met Mr Riddle's dark eyes and curled up half her mouth. She realised something then. He was a Legilimens. It was the only explanation. He'd known Mr Goyle had said raising the dead was impossible. He'd known about pheasant for dinner. He'd known that Bellatrix and Narcissa were on the stairs. He could see into minds. It was the only thing that made sense. Was he in her mind right now, she wondered? She narrowed her eyes at him and said quietly,

"My thoughts are mine to keep, Mr Riddle. You'll do well to remember that if you wish to call on me again."

He bowed his head respectfully and murmured, "Yes, of course, Miss Black. Good evening."

"Good evening, Mr Riddle."

She watched him descend the stairs again, watched him walk out of the foyer with his old school friends, and her heart thunked like a war drum in her chest once he'd gone.

* * *

Friday's arrival seemed at once to take an eternity and to come in no time at all. Bellatrix still had no reply from Rodolphus Lestrange by Friday, but she was unsurprised by that, seeing as how he was very far away and owls in either direction would take quite some time. He was also, undoubtedly, very busy. By the time Bellatrix was getting herself ready on Friday, she found that she wasn't thinking very much about Rodolphus' diplomatic mission to Russia, about the way he had a straight nose and chestnut eyes. Instead, she was thinking about Tom Riddle.

Bellatrix sat at her boudoir in an elegant black raw silk dress, this one cut with a square neck instead of the round one that she'd worn to her suitor's party. This one had silver lace trim round the neckline and trumpet sleeves, and its skirts were trimmed with silver-and-black brocade. Bellatrix's breasts heaved out the top of the neckline, swelling perhaps more than than her parents would have thought appropriate. Bellatrix used a puff to powder at her neck and chest, and the skin appeared smoother than ever. They really were releasing magnificent cosmetics products these days, Bellatrix thought. She tapped the powder round her cheeks and nose, and then she dabbed rouge onto her lips and cheekbones. She started to pull her hair into a criss-cross pattern in a voluminous style atop her head, securing it with silver-and-crystal pins. She used her wand to perfectly curl two ringlets, one over each shoulder, and she wondered whether she looked all right for a walk in the garden and conversation in the sunroom. After all, that was what Mr Riddle had been invited here to do.

Bellatrix stood and made her way downstairs, and as her heels  _click-click-clicked_  in the corridor, the dancing and singing clock chimed beside her. Bellatrix paused to watch as the little figurines emerged from the clock face and began to dance a minuet with one another.

"Bellatrix!"

She snapped her head to the side to see Druella Black standing in the blue parlour with her father. Druella was wearing a set of deep red velvet and silk robes, and she looked angry. As Bellatrix approached, she asked her mother,

"Everything all right?"

"That dastardly social climber is trying to foment some sort of political movement. Your father's just been telling me," Druella hissed. "The other night at dinner, Tom Riddle admitted that he has aspirations of forming a… what did you call it, Cygnus?"

"A group of like-minded individuals, Druella," drawled Cygnus. "He is hardly dangerous. Indeed, he is a brilliant mind and a wizard whose skill I have never seen matched. I think our Ministry, or at least our society, could certainly use a man like him -"

"What, a Half-Blood who spent his childhood begging Muggles for coins?" Druella snarled, and Cygnus looked rather furious at having been interrupted.

"He is going to be something great, Druella. I can feel it."

"Well, he'd best hurry up with that. The man is on the wrong side of forty," Druella said imperiously. "He's far too old for Bellatrix, and far too poor, and he -"

She stopped then, for they all heard knocking in the distance. The trio of Black family members arranged themselves then, with Bellatrix standing between her feuding parents. A moment later, Banny appeared at the doorway of the blue parlour with Mr Riddle in tow. Bellatrix stepped forward and descended into a very deep curtsy, and Mr Riddle bowed just as reverently to her.

"Miss Black," he said, his voice almost gentle as he rose. "It is a balm on my soul to see you again, truly."

"Is it?" She felt a little breathless then, for she'd forgotten in two days how very handsome he was. Then she remembered the way he'd shown off his mind tricks with the other wizards before dinner on Wednesday night, and she wondered whether he was inside her head right now. She cleared her throat and said, "We should walk in the gardens now, I think. It is cloudy and might rain. I should like to walk before it rains."

"Quite so." Mr Riddle nodded. He flicked his eyes to Druella and told her, "Druella, madam, you are radiant as ever. How very fortunate I would consider myself to call you my mother-in-law."

Bellatrix couldn't help smirking at that, for some reason. She wasn't sure why it amused her, but it did. For her part, Druella looked enraged. She pursed her lips, and her eyes flashed, but she curtsied a little and said,

"Do enjoy your walk through our extensive gardens, Mr Riddle. I'm sure you'll find a blooming flower quite to your liking out there."

"Indeed. Miss Black?" Mr Riddle held out his arm, and Bellatrix gasped a little as she realised he meant to escort her. She smiled a little and threaded her arm through his. When she glanced over her shoulder, Cygnus looked peaceful and happy at what he saw, but Druella's face had practically gone purple. Bellatrix just walked out of the parlour with Mr Riddle, and as they meandered through the ballroom to the back door, she asked him softly,

"Why don't you and my mother get along at all?"

"It's as I've told you," he said patiently. "She has always viewed me as nothing more than a disgusting street urchin with the wrong, dead parentage and a shameful lack of estate. I have always been an intruder in her world."

They started to walk out onto the lawn and toward the rose gardens, and he continued,

"When we were much younger, she saw me with my group of friends, all of whom listened attentively to my words and followed my instructions. And Druella Rosier thought that was nonsense. She told Cygnus Black III that it was nonsense, but he wouldn't listen. Only after they were married did he drift away a little. Her world was full of parties and balls and the purest blood, and wretched interlopers like Tom Marvolo Riddle were - are - hardly welcome."

"But shouldn't she care about my happiness?" Bellatrix asked. "Shouldn't it matter whether I'm desired by my husband, or whether he leaves me in Russia all the time?"

"You're speaking of the Avery and Lestrange boys," said Mr Riddle. He adjusted his tricorn hat upon his head and cleared his throat. "I think you're right that the Avery boy would be better off with a wizard than with a witch, but Rodolphus Lestrange might surprise you and make a fine husband whenever he's in England."

"I wrote to him," Bellatrix admitted. "I wrote to him asking about Russia. Asking about Rodolphus himself. I'm waiting for a letter back from him."

"Hmm." Mr Riddle stopped walking between two rose bushes and stared down at Bellatrix. She squinted up at him in the sunlight, and she asked,

"What is your favourite food?"

"In the whole world?" he asked. "Baked pumpkin with butter."

Bellatrix frowned. "Why that?"

"Because it was the first bite of food I took at Hogwarts," said Mr Riddle. "Before that, I'd been a deserted orphan on the streets of London. Now, suddenly, I was a Slytherin. I was at school for magic. And at the start of term feast, the first bite of food I took was a bite of baked pumpkin with butter. So it is my very favourite food."

"Oh." Bellatrix's eyes watered, and she looked away at a rose. "You said on Wednesday that it was possible to raise the dead with effort. Is that true?"

"Yes," he said simply.

"Will you teach me how sometime?" Bellatrix asked. He was quiet, until she found his eyes again, and then he said,

"I'll teach you anything you want to know, Miss Black."

"Is the sea grey or blue?" Bellatrix pressed, knowing that she was full of questions and hoping he didn't mind. But his brows knitted, and he repeated,

"Grey or blue?"

"The sea by your cottage. Is it a grey sea, or a blue sea?"

His lips parted, and he nodded. "It depends on whether there is sun. Or rain. Sometimes it is grey, and sometimes it is perfectly blue, and sometimes it is a jade green. It shifts and changes, the sea. Sometimes the waves roll, and sometimes they crash, and sometimes the sea is as still as glass."

"I wish I could go there," Bellatrix told him. "I wish I could go to your cottage by the sea."

"Do you?" He flicked his eyes up and down Bellatrix's form. "I think I should go. Thank you for letting me call on you today."

He started to walk back toward the house, and Bellatrix chased after him. She grabbed at his arm.

"Wait!" she cried. "Mr Riddle, have I said something wrong?"

"No." He turned to face her and gave her a weighty look. "Druella Rosier Black is not going to let you marry me."

"You don't know that. She can be convinced," Bellatrix whined. "And, anyway, no offence intended, Mr Riddle, but I haven't made my decision yet."

"Allow me to make it for you," he said. "Marry the Lestrange boy."

He started to go again, so Bellatrix squeezed at his arm and wrenched him back. He whirled toward her, a look of surprise on his face, and she pleaded helplessly,

"Don't go. I'll speak with her. I do not wish for you to give up. I… you're… you're the front-runner, Mr Riddle, so -"

"Oh. Well." He scoffed quietly and shut his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he said in a quiet voice, "You are the seventeen-year-old, painfully beautiful daughter of a very wealthy, exceedingly elite Pureblood family. I am an aspirational Half-Blood with no money and no estate. And your mother absolutely despises me. I really don't know why I thought this was a good idea."

"Because you are an ambitious man," Bellatrix insisted. "Because you know what you want and then you take it. That's why. Or have I misinterpreted your past, present, and future, Mr Riddle?"

He stared at her, seeming a little surprised, and Bellatrix stepped closer. She barrelled on,

"You told me that you wanted a witch beside you who was going to respect your aspirations and help you achieve your goals."

"I don't think those are the words I used," he murmured, but she released his arm at last and tipped her chin up.

"I think your cottage by the sea sounds lovely, and my father tells me that one day you are going to be a great wizard. And I know you're a Legilimens, and that you know how to raise the dead and do who-knows-what-else. You are powerful, and that is alluring to me. You are intelligent and handsome, and I -"

"Bellatrix."

She startled, for he'd used her given name instead of  _Miss Black_ , so she just blinked up at him as he said carefully down to her,

"Your mother is watching us out a window right now."

Bellatrix glanced back to the house to see her mother standing in the kitchens, staring out a window with a look of confusion on her face. She probably thought Bellatrix and Mr Riddle were arguing. Bellatrix had a wild thought, and she mumbled to Mr Riddle,

"Touch me."

He hesitated, but then he reached up with one trembling hand and cupped Bellatrix's jaw. He just stood there, holding onto her, and she leaned against his palm. Finally he lowered his hand, and Bellatrix asked him,

"Will you come again soon?"

"If you'll have me," he said. "And… I shall be at the Goyles' garden party tomorrow. Will you be there?"

Bellatrix smiled up at him. "I'm a member of the House of Black," she reminded him. "Of course I shall be there."

"Well," he said, "Until tomorrow, then, Miss Black."

He brought her knuckles up to his lips, kissed them, bowed respectfully, and turned to walk back to the house, leaving Bellatrix breathless on the lawn.

**Author's Note: Some real Bellamort is brewing! Will Druella get seriously in the way? Will these two be obvious at an 18th century party? Hmm. Thanks so much for reading and reviewing.**


	5. Minuet

"All right, girls. Inspection time!" Druella Black cleared her throat in the blue parlour as all three of her daughters came filing in. Narcissa was wearing a demure set of formal robes in pale carnation pink. Her blonde hair was piled atop her head in a stack of curls. She'd powdered her face pale and had used what Bellatrix considered to be perhaps excessive cosmetics for a witch of only thirteen. Indeed, Druella marched up to Narcissa, aiming her wand at her daughter, and hissed,

" _Scourgify_. Cissy, what are you thinking, painting your face like a doll? You are thirteen years of age. Absolutely not!"

"Sorry, Mother," Narcissa said, her cheeks going naturally pink. Druella turned her attention on Andromeda, who wore a cobalt blue gown in the latest Muggle style, a  _robe a l'Anglaise_  with a parted skirt that revealed gold silk petticoats. Andromeda looked lovely, if Bellatrix was honest. Her brown hair had been pulled over one shoulder in a huge, single curl, and she wore teardrop pearl earrings and a matching pendant. She would attract all sorts of attention from wizards, Bellatrix thought. But she also knew that Andromeda had little interest in the wealthy Pureblood boys who would thirst after her at today's garden party.

"Dromeda, dear, you look marvelous," Druella purred. "You look like a dream, and you'll prime the pump for all the would-be husbands of the future."

Andromeda rolled her eyes a little but curtsied to her mother and whispered, "Thank you, Mother."

"As for you, Bellatrix." Druella turned her eyes to Bellatrix and flicked her gaze up and down. Bellatrix sniffed. She had worked very hard on the gown she'd chosen for this garden party. It was constructed on the basis of grey silk, over which Bellatrix had layered black lace. The sleeves were black lace, reaching her elbows and then trumpeting out. The neckline was probably scandalously low, revealing the heave of Bellatrix's bosom above her corset. The parted skirts of black lace revealed the grey silk beneath. Bellatrix had styled her hair in three tight ringlets over one shoulder, tied with a length of lace, and she wore a treasured strand of black pearls round her neck. She'd gone light with the rouge on her lips and cheeks. She thought she looked just fine.

"You look funereal," Druella complained. "This is a garden party. Who's being buried? Did I miss news about someone being buried?"

"You know I prefer black, Mother," Bellatrix sighed. Druella pinched her lips and shook her head.

"You are incorrigible. Right. So. Andromeda and Narcissa, each of you will take one parent. Andromeda, you take your father, and Narcissa, you come with me. Bellatrix, since you got your Apparition licence last term at school, you can take yourself. Concentrate hard on Goyle Manor in Shropshire. Think of that spot out back, in their garden. You know the place, Bellatrix - the statue of Germina Goyle. We'll meet there. Everyone ready?"

Bellatrix's sisters took hold of their parents, and Bellatrix whirled hard to the side. She deliberated and determined that she was going to land near the statue of Germina Goyle, and when she emerged from the pinching void, she blinked into the bright sunlight of the Goyles' garden.

"Miss Black?"

A voice sounded from a distance away, just as Bellatrix's family appeared in the garden with a series of pops. Bellatrix looked up to see Asher Avery, in powder blue, moving briskly toward her. He had a crystal cup in his hand, which appeared to be filled with fruit juice of some kind. Bellatrix descended into a low curtsy as Asher approached, and he bowed.

"Miss Black!" he gushed. "You look marvelous."

"Do I really?" She grinned up at Asher. "Not too much with the grey silk?"

"Just enough," he winked. "Come. You must see all the French pastry the Goyles have managed. I figured you'd be pleased; didn't you spend a fair bit of time in France with your Rosier relatives?"

"So I did," Bellatrix laughed, following Asher away, "but mustn't I first eat real food before delving into the desserts?"

"Whoever said such a thing as that?" Asher breathed. "Dessert may always come first, Miss Black."

She giggled again, and the two of them went over to the broad table stacked with cream puffs and madeleines, with little caramel cakes and praline creams. Bellatrix filled up a plate with pastries, and then she and Asher walked over to an open area of the party. Bellatrix chewed on a madeleine and watched as one of the Goyle girls, a lumbering witch who was taller than any wizard present, spoke with a group.

"I feel sorry for her," Bellatrix mused to Asher. "For Gertrude Goyle. She's  _so tall_."

"She just needs someone who likes to look up," Asher shrugged. Bellatrix sighed and sipped at the apple juice she'd plucked off the tray of a passing House-Elf. She and Asher spent the next ten minutes talking quietly and happily. They spoke about the delectable French pastries, about how Henrietta Crabbe had very nearly failed her end-of-term exams at Hogwarts, and about how Bellatrix might not go back to school in the autumn.

"Well, it's all rather up in the air," Bellatrix said, passing her empty plate and cup to the House-Elf who walked by. "If I decide to marry Rodolphus Lestrange, I'll probably go back and finish out my seventh year of school, because he's away so much for his work with the Ministry."

"And if you choose someone else?" Asher raised a sandy blond eyebrow. His tricorn hat was elegant, with a large blue plume coming off of it, and Bellatrix sighed at how dreadfully handsome he looked today. She huffed in frustration how very unavailable he was. She finally threw her hands up and said,

"If I decide to marry someone else, the wedding will probably be in the autumn. Narcissa and Andromeda would be given a dispensation to leave school for the occasion - Professor Dippet would grant it; you know he would - and then I would become someone's wife, as I was born to become as a daughter of the House of Black."

"Is that what you want?" Asher asked, narrowing his eyes. "Do you suppose someone might let you finish your seventh year of school and  _then_  marry him?"

Bellatrix thought of Tom Riddle, and she pondered to herself that she'd rather be in his cottage by the sea than be a Slytherin. She shook her head and insisted to Asher,

"If I chose to marry Rodolphus, I'd go back to school. But if I made a different choice, I'd be happy not to go back. It is complicated, I know."

"Yes. These things are very complicated," Asher agreed. He let out a long sigh and sipped off the last of his own apple juice. He set the glass down on the table behind him. "He's here."

"What? Who's…  _oh_." Bellatrix turned her face then and saw him, wondering how Asher Avery knew about Tom Riddle. Then she realised his father must have told him all about the man. Mr Riddle was walking with his hands clasped behind him, looking marvelous in a midnight blue velvet ensemble. His stockings were crisp white, and the trim round his breeches and sleeves was a sort of metallic bronze. He had his slightly greying hair styled carefully today, pulled back into a braid that he'd secured with a dark blue ribbon. He finally raised his eyes to Bellatrix, stopped walking, touched his hand to his chest, and bowed.

Bellatrix felt her heart flutter, felt her stomach clench, and all she could think of was the way he'd talked to her about raising the dead, the way he'd said he would teach her anything. She could only think of the sea near his cottage - sometimes grey and sometimes blue, he'd said. She thought of him eating apples and honey, of him holding her face. She started to walk away from Asher, and she said over her shoulder,

"I shall speak with you soon, if you'll excuse me, Mr Avery."

"Naturally, Miss Black." Asher grinned, bowing his head. Bellatrix rushed toward Mr Riddle then, across the grass and past clumps of socialising Purebloods. When she reached him, he smiled a little at her and reached at once for her hand. He brought it to his lips, kissed her knuckles, and murmured,

"How long a day seems, when one is looking forward to tomorrow."

"Mr Riddle." Bellatrix curtsied to him, holding the dip until her skirts billowed about her. She finally rose, realising he was still holding her hand. She did not want to let go. She stared at where his fingers carefully cradled hers, and she asked, "Do you like the music?"

"The music." He raised his gaze and stared at the Enchanted instruments. They were playing a lively piece, and loads of people had gone out to dance. Mr Riddle turned his face back to Bellatrix and curled up half his mouth. "I adore the music. Miss Black, may I have the honour of a dance?"

"Yes, please." Bellatrix let him lead her by her hand toward the area of grass, Charmed against damage, where people were dancing a minuet. Bellatrix curtsied toward the guests, and then toward Mr Riddle, who bowed. She smiled at him as they danced curving sideways, meeting at the back, then forward to the middle, holding their inside hands. Mr Riddle wheeled Bellatrix round, and she laughed a bit, feeling glee come over her. They danced out sideways to the corners, then made a Z figure. Seizing right hands, they wheeled in a right turn, and Bellatrix stared deeply in Mr Riddle's eyes as they did. When she finally had to break away, making two more Z figures, she felt the loss of him. But then it was time for the left turn, and she got to hold his hand again. She squeezed him just a little, and she watched his eyes flash. When they came forward to meet, holding both hands, she stared up at him and nodded just a little, and his throat bobbed. They turned slowly, and she felt her lips curl up. She was happy. She was so happy with him, she thought. They opened up toward the guests, and Bellatrix curtsied. She released Mr Riddle's hand and curtsied toward him, and he bowed. The song ended, and Bellatrix felt like her heart was going to thump right out of her chest and land on the grass.

"Thank you for the dance, Mr Riddle," Bellatrix said as they slowly walked away from the cluster of people near the musicians.

"Have you already sampled the French pastries?" he asked, and she nodded.

"They're delectable. You must have some."

"Perhaps I shall, in a little while," he said. "I thought I might go examine the statue of Germina Goyle. I've heard she talks to you if you look intensely enough at her eyes."

"Is that true?" Bellatrix laughed. "I've never heard such a thing."

"Why don't we go find out?" suggested Mr Riddle. He held out his arm, and Bellatrix laced her hand happily through. They began to walk past gossiping Selwyns and snacking Rowles, past immaculately-dressed Greengrasses and dour-looking Carrows. All the best Purebloods had come today, and Bellatrix was among them. But Tom Riddle, aspirational Half-Blood plucked off the streets of London, was not one of them. It didn't matter, Bellatrix thought. He was going to be great someday. She knew that to be true.

As they passed Druella Black, Bellatrix's mother gave them a glare that could have frozen all the apple juice at the party. Bellatrix smiled and waved at her mother, deciding that she did not much care anymore what Druella thought about Tom Riddle. After all…

"I am seventeen."

"I beg your pardon?" asked Mr Riddle as they walked out of the most crowded bit of the party and toward the gardens. Bellatrix looked up at him and reminded him,

"I am seventeen years old. I am of age. So I don't really need my mother's permission to… well, to do anything."

He smirked at her and shrugged. "I suppose that is true. You can disobey Druella Rosier Black to your heart's content."

"To my heart's content," Bellatrix repeated, and Mr Riddle's face went a little more serious then. He sighed, and as they neared the statue of Germina Goyle, Bellatrix stopped walking. Mr Riddle released her arm, frowning at her. Bellatrix glanced over her shoulder, back toward the party, realising they were rather alone out here in the hedges and flowers and fountains. She swallowed hard and said,

"I still have not heard back from Mr Lestrange. I expect it will have taken quite a bit of time for my owl to have reached him, and then he'll have to draught a response, and then the owl back… in any case, I do expect to hear from him, and he expressed to me before he left that he quite wishes to marry me."

"Hmm. Mmm-hmm. I'm sure he does want to marry you, Miss Black," said Tom Riddle. "Upon marrying you, provided he has the permission and blessing of both your parents, Mr Lestrange would receive a dowry of… what, fifty thousand Galleons?"

"Seventy-five thousand," Bellatrix corrected him, and Mr Riddle nodded, putting his hands on his hips.

"Aside from the money, you would be patient with his absenteeism due to his work. You are interested in his diplomatic missions. You are very intelligent, a trait he undoubtedly values. I'm sure you would make Mr Lestrange happier than just about any other option. You are his absolute first choice. Of that I'm certain."

Bellatrix's eyes burned. She thought, for a moment, of life with Rodolphus Lestrange. Straight-nosed, freckled, chestnut-eyed, curly-haired Rodolphus. They would probably make one another awfully happy. Bellatrix pursed her lips, and Mr Riddle approached her and took both of her hands in his as he said,

"I would not fault you, not even a little, for choosing that boy. It is probably the wise thing for you to do."

"But you said you wanted to marry me." Bellatrix felt a tear boiling in one eye, and she raised her gaze to Mr Riddle's. He coughed a little sound and nodded.

"You are the witch who Hexed an entire Quidditch team because they wouldn't let girls on. You are the witch who Transfigured your classmates into animals. You are the witch who reads forbidden literature in the Hogwarts library and gets caught trying to Confound the librarian to cover her tracks. And I am the wizard who has spent most of the last decade traveling around learning all manner of Dark magic. So, yes, Miss Black. I sought you out."

"Not for the seventy-five thousand Galleons?" Bellatrix asked, tipping her head, and he replied,

"I thought it was fifty."

Bellatrix sighed and shut her eyes. "You like baked pumpkin with butter because, before Hogwarts, you were a Half-Blood urchin eating scraps on the streets of London."

"And look at me now." His voice was a little harsh then. Bellatrix opened her eyes and took him in. She saw an elegant man in a handsome set of clothes, mingling at a party of the wizarding world's most elite inhabitants. She blinked as she realised how far he'd already climbed, and as she realised how far he could still go. Her breath accelerated a little as she thought that it didn't much matter that he'd been a Half-Blood orphan. What mattered was that he was at the Goyles' garden party with the others now, and that someday he would be someone very powerful and terrible. She could feel it. She knew it. He wanted a  _great witch_  beside him, he'd said. Did he really mean her?

Suddenly he was holding her face in his hands, and his deep, dark eyes were locked onto hers, and he murmured gently,

"You are seventeen."

"I can make my own choices," she nodded. "I can and I will."

"Make a choice right now," he said. "Not about marriage; take your time with that choice. But choose right now, Miss Black. Shall I kiss you, or not?"

"Yes," she whispered at once. "Yes, you must."

He bent down and pressed one hand between her shoulders. His other hand cradled her jaw, and then his lips were on hers. He was careful, so careful, but Bellatrix hummed against him. He pushed his lips just a little harder, and she suddenly felt everything inside of her screaming for more. She wanted his hands to search her, wanted to taste him. But his kiss was chaste, and she was left gasping as he pulled away. Bellatrix's hands grappled in the air and finally settled on the front of his brocade waistcoat, and she just touched him for a moment as she caught her breath. Mr Riddle stared down at her, seeming far more collected than she felt, and he said gently,

"We ought to go back. Your mother was staring daggers at me as I led you over here."

"I don't care what she thinks," Bellatrix hissed, raising her eyes. Mr Riddle smirked, nodded, and adjusted Bellatrix's curls over her shoulder as he said again,

"We ought to go back, Miss Black."

"Bellatrix," she corrected him, and he studied her face for a long moment before he finally mumbled,

"Bellatrix."

Then he started to walk back to the party, and Bellatrix followed.

**Author's Note: Well, Rodolphus is going to have to do some serious letter-writing if he's going to catch up with Mr Riddle's wooing at this point. But, wait - a dowry of 75,000 Galleons? That's a LOT of money! And it's contingent upon having the blessing of both parents? That won't be a problem, right, Druella?**

**Thanks so very much for reading and reviewing.**


	6. Castles and Cottages

Bellatrix dug her spoon into her chocolate custard as the rest of her family chatted at the dining room table.

"And Lucius Malfoy and I danced a minuet," Narcissa was saying. "It was the most wondrous garden party there ever was."

"Oh, gracious," Andromeda sighed. "You're hopeless, Cissy. Head over heels for that boy Lucius. Father, I don't think you'll have to have any suitors when it's Cissy's time. Lucius Malfoy will be able to ask for her hand directly and she'll trip over her skirts begging you to say yes."

"Don't be ridiculous, Dromeda," Druella Black said, and Bellatrix looked up from her custard. "Lucius Malfoy will have to present himself alongside all the others, and then Narcissa will have the opportunity to select him. After all, girls, we follow tradition in this family. We are presented with suitors who come from good, Pureblood families, and we -"

"You're speaking of Mr Riddle," Bellatrix interjected, and Druella's face flushed dark pink. Her spoon clattered to the table as she huffed,

"How dare you interrupt me, Bellatrix!"

"Be kind to your mother, girls," said Cygnus limply. Bellatrix pinched her lips and mumbled an apology. Just then, Banny the House-Elf came hobbling into the dining room, holding out a thick-looking envelope to Bellatrix.

"Miss Bellatrix, this has just arrived by owl for you," said Banny. Bellatrix took the envelope and examined it. It was addressed to her in a neat, spindly hand, and on the back was a cobalt blue wax seal with the mark of the Lestrange family. Bellatrix gasped a little and breathed,

"He wrote back. Rodolphus Lestrange. He wrote back to me."

"Oh, Bellatrix! Read it!" Narcissa clapped her hands excitedly, but Bellatrix clutched the letter to her chest and asked her mother,

"May I be excused from the table?"

"You may," Druella said, looking pleased at the letter's arrival. Bellatrix pushed back her chair, curtsied a little, and walked out of the dining room. As she left, she heard Narcissa complaining that she wanted to know what was in the letter. Bellatrix walked out through the corridor and past the singing, dancing clock, down the hall and into the blue parlour. She sat on a cream-coloured divan and looked at the wax seal again in the light of the wall sconces. She broke the seal and opened the envelope, pulling out the two sheets of folded parchment inside. Then she began to read.

_Dear Miss Black,_

_Words can not express how delighted I was to receive your letter not long after my arrival in St Petersburg. I am very grateful for all of your questions, and I adore every last one of them. I shall try to answer them all in kind._

_Food in wizarding Russia is quite different from England. They eat quite a lot of beets here. They also have a fondness for caviar, which is fish eggs and is considered a delicacy. They drink an awful lot of vodka - a very powerful spirit adopted from their Muggles. Their music is a mournful sort of folk style that encourages singing and dancing. Their robes are often trimmed with fur in the winter, and they favour silks and brocades in the summer, just like fashionable English witches and wizards. It is not, in fact, terribly cold here in the summer. It is not very hot, either, but it is pleasant enough. There is certainly no snow to be found this time of year in St Petersburg._

_You asked me what brings me joy, and what makes me unhappy. I will tell you that it brings me great joy to play little games with my white cat. He is called Tobias, and he is a very fine cat. I shall miss him whilst I am in Russia. I suppose the absence of Tobias makes me rather unhappy. It also makes me unhappy to think that I shall not see you again for several months. I was so grateful for the little time I was granted with you. I look forward to more time._

_Miss Black, I hope I have answered your questions to your satisfaction. I am really quite taken by you, quite stricken by your beauty and your intellect, and I do believe you would be the most magnificent wife I could ever ask for. I would strive to be a very good husband to you. I would be gentle and kind. I do promise you that. Please do not abandon hope of me during my time in Russia. I should be devastated to find that my absence lost me the opportunity to make you my bride (and, thus, to become the most fortunate man who ever lived)._

_I do hope you will write back to me. I should like very much to receive another letter from you. That would make me happy, to answer your earlier question. Thank you for writing, Miss Black. I look forward to our next meeting and wish you nothing but health and happiness. I hope very sincerely that you are well._

_Warmest regards,_

_Rodolphus Lestrange_

Bellatrix stared at the second page of the letter for a long moment. She let out a shaking sigh as she realised that Rodolphus Lestrange had written her a letter that was very romantic indeed. She chomped on her lip and thought of Mr Riddle kissing her in the gardens at Goyle Manor. Then she thought of Rodolphus' freckles, of his chestnut eyes and his curls. She thought of Rodolphus in his own country house, being a wealthy and loving husband to Bellatrix when he was home from Russia. He would probably be a very fine spouse, Bellatrix thought. Rodolphus would probably make her very happy.

But she could still feel Tom Riddle's lips pressing against hers in the garden, could still feel one of his hands on her back whilst the other held her face. She could still see Mr Riddle's dark eyes during their dance, could still feel his hand in hers. And the more Bellatrix thought about Mr Riddle, the more Rodolphus Lestrange slipped away. Bellatrix looked down at Rodolphus' beautiful, romantic letter and studied the words again.

_I would strive to be a very good husband to you. I would be gentle and kind._

Bellatrix shut her eyes and thought of the way Mr Riddle had promised to teach her anything she wanted. She thought of the way he'd told her that he liked the Darkness inside of her. She thought of his cottage by the sea. And when she opened her eyes, she folded Rodolphus' letter, tucked it into the envelope, and decided that she needed to go to bed. She'd had more than enough of being awake for one day.

* * *

"Bellatrix!" Narcissa came bursting into the library, breathless and windblown. She'd been outside on the front lawn, Bellatrix knew, and she'd apparently come running into the house. Bellatrix frowned and set down her book on dragons. Narcissa heaved a breath and exclaimed, "Mother and Father and I were having tea on the lawn, and Mr Riddle appeared! He… well, he Apparated outside the gate, and he… anyway, he's come to court you, and he's talking to Mother and Father right now!"

"Oh! Oh, no! I'm a mess!" Bellatrix scowled. She was in a plain black cotton dress, her hair yanked into a single thick braid tossed haphazardly over one shoulder. She wore no jewelry or cosmetics. But she dashed after Narcissa, abandoning her dragon book, and she followed her little sister down the broad wooden stairs. Banny opened the front door for them, and the girls went rushing out of the house. Bellatrix realised she only had on one petticoat, that she looked an utter disaster, and she whipped out her wand.

" _Creaflora!_ " she hissed, and she Conjured a blood red rose, ripped off the stem, and jammed it into the top of her braid. She trotted out toward the place where her parents stood talking with Mr Riddle, who stood looking elegant in burgundy breeches, waistcoat, and outer robe. He had on a matching tricorn hat over his hair, which was pulled into a queue. He was always so striking, Bellatrix thought. Her heart raced as she and Narcissa approached. But then she heard her mother saying,

"Do tell us, Tom, where you are living these days."

Bellatrix slowed down and listened as Mr Riddle said carefully, "I have a modest home of my own outside of Emelle, near Dover. It overlooks the sea; it's quite scenic."

"And quite  _small_ , no doubt," Druella snarled. Mr Riddle smiled just a little and told her,

"I have every intention of obtaining a more impressive home soon."

"I'm sure seventy-five thousand Galleons would help you with that," Druella sniffed.

"Mr Riddle!" exclaimed Bellatrix loudly. "What a  _very_  pleasant surprise. Please do forgive my appearance."

"The only thing to forgive is my unannounced arrival, Miss Black." Mr Riddle dipped into a bow, touching his hat. He stood and said, "I confess that I found myself quite in the mood for that conversation in the sunroom that we never had, Miss Black. We cut our last visit short after the garden, and I… well, I found myself mourning the sunroom."

"Did you?" Bellatrix was breathless then, and she beckoned. "Please, do come inside. I should quite like to have a conversation with you. Mother, Father, Cissy. We'll leave you to your tea."

"Quite so, darling," said Cygnus. "Tom, I shall see you at Avery's house for firewhisky and talk tonight, eh?"

"I'm looking forward to it, Cygnus," Mr Riddle nodded. Bellatrix led Mr Riddle toward the house, Druella glaring after them. As they neared the house, Bellatrix said quietly to Mr Riddle,

"I wish I'd known you were coming, Mr Riddle. I would have dressed appropriately."

"I think you look just fine, Miss Black." Mr Riddle smirked at her. Bellatrix opened the door of the house and led him inside, and she walked with him down the corridor past the dancing, singing clock. Bellatrix looked over her shoulder at him, smiled a little, and watched his eyes go to her braid.

"Did you pluck that rose from the garden?" he asked, and she touched at it.

"I Conjured it," she said. He nodded. As she led him further down the corridor, he told her,

"I once Conjured a castle and lived in it. I only lived in it for two months. I wonder what your mother would think of that."

Bellatrix froze. She turned slowly in the corridor and stared up at Mr Riddle. She furrowed her brows.

"You Conjured a castle?"

He sighed. "I Conjured all the stone, and the furnishings, and the -"

"I apologise for interrupting," Bellatrix blurted, "but  _why_  do you live in a meagre little cottage if you can Conjure yourself a  _castle?_ "

Mr Riddle's lips parted, and he shrugged a little. "It was exceedingly difficult, even for a wizard like me. It did take quite a lot of effort; it wore me out day after day. And it… I… I haven't got a reason to live anywhere other than my little cottage. Not yet, at least."

Bellatrix blinked at him. She gulped. Suddenly the clock chimed, and the little dancing, singing figurines emerged and began to dance a minuet. Bellatrix gazed up at Mr Riddle and waited for the clock's song to die down, and once the racket had ended, she said to him,

"Mr Lestrange wrote to me from Russia."

Mr Riddle shifted on his feet and said uncomfortably, "May we have this conversation in the sunroom rather than the corridor, Miss Black?"

"He answered all the questions that I asked about Russia, and about him. He told me that he was very much looking forward to coming back and seeing me again, and he promised that he would be a kind, gentle husband to me."

"I'm sure he would be a very fine husband for you, Miss Black," said Mr Riddle tightly. "Perhaps you ought to marry him. It wouldn't be so very bad at all; you'd be on your own quite a lot, but I think you'd be just fine when he's in Russia spending your time in his grand country house."

"What if I don't want Rodolphus Lestrange's country house?" Bellatrix tipped up her chin. "What if I want Tom Riddle's castle?"

He licked his lip. "Tom Riddle has a little cottage by the sea."

"Because he hasn't any reason to build himself a castle. Isn't that right, Mr Riddle?" Bellatrix asked. Mr Riddle narrowed his eyes. Bellatrix pressed, "Don't you suppose that if you told Druella Rosier Black that you were the lord of your own castle, that she might be more amenable to providing you with my dowry?"

"I've told you that I am not in pursuit of you for money, Miss Black," said Mr Riddle, but Bellatrix insisted,

"It would help, though, wouldn't it? It would help your rise."

His dark eyes flashed, and his mouth fell open. Bellatrix nodded up at him, taking a step closer.

"It would help you become more powerful among all your old school friends," she said, "if you had a castle, and a fortune, and a bride who came from the most elite blood. Wouldn't all of that help your ambitions?"

He shut his eyes and said softly, "I desire your hand because of the witch that you are, Miss -"

"Bellatrix," she corrected him. "And I know what you want. You want to teach me Dark things. I like that idea. I like it very much. I also like the idea of learning from you inside the walls of a castle where you are the wealthy, powerful lord."

His breath had quickened then, and he took a step toward Bellatrix. She backed up toward the wall, and when her head hit the damask wallpaper, she stared up at Mr Riddle and hummed,

"You have a reason to build yourself a castle, Mr Riddle. You have many reasons, don't you? Prestige. Power."

"Bellatrix." He took her face in his hands and pressed up against her, and her stomach curled with want. He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her, much more firmly than he'd done in the gardens at Goyle Manor. His mouth was more insistent this time, his tongue prodding into her mouth and dragging along the roof. She held onto his shoulders and pulled him closer, and when he parted their mouths, his breath was hot on her lips.

"You want to be someone important in this world," Bellatrix hummed against his mouth. "You want to be powerful. Make it so."

"Bellatrix…" His hands went to her waist, squeezing a little at her narrow curve through the thick material of her dress and corset. Bellatrix gasped at the way he was touching her, kissing her, and she wanted more. But then, very suddenly, she heard the front door of the house open, and Narcissa and her mother were talking to one another in the foyer.

Mr Riddle flew away from Bellatrix, his cheeks staining dark red at once. Bellatrix moved off of the wall and gulped, chewing her lip. She looked up at Mr Riddle and told him,

"If you agree, I will speak to my parents."

He looked shocked then. Had she just accepted his proposition of marriage? His lips shook a little as Narcissa's and Druella's voices grew nearer. Bellatrix hissed up at Mr Riddle,

"Tell me, Mr Riddle. Do you wish to marry me?"

"Yes, I do," he nodded. "Wait until I've built my castle for you."

"Very well," Bellatrix nodded. Druella and Narcissa arrived at the end of the corridor then, and Bellatrix smiled nervously. She turned to Mr Riddle and dipped into a low curtsy. "Thank you so very much for coming today, Mr Riddle. Banny! Please show Mr Riddle out."

**Author's Note: Well! She's made her choice, and she's definitely… ahem… an early supporter of Lord Voldemort, as it were. But poor Rodolphus! He's actually a good guy in this one! What will Druella say when she finds out about Tom Riddle's Conjured castle?**


	7. Praelia

_Dear Mr Lestrange,_

Bellatrix stared at the parchment and pinched her lips. She had no idea what to write. Should she tell Rodolphus that she was being aggressively courted by Tom Riddle? Probably not. Bellatrix put her quill to the parchment again and wrote,

_I am glad to hear the weather in St Petersburg is pleasant enough this time of year and hope that you are well there. I also hope that you bear a liking for beetroot and fish eggs, given the Russians' proclivity for eating them. I wish you every success in your diplomatic endeavours. Be happy and healthy, and I shall see you again soon._

_Very sincerely,_

_Bellatrix Black_

She sighed and folded the parchment once the ink dried. She sealed it up with wax and punched a hole in the corner. She was tying it to the owl's leg with ribbon when she heard footsteps clacking on the wooden floor behind her. She recognised the cadence and weight of the steps as her mother's, and Bellatrix called,

"One moment, Mother. Just sending this letter off. Owl - find Rodolphus Lestrange in St Petersburg, Russia."

The owl soared out through the window of the study, and Bellatrix turned around to see her mother with a strange look on her face. Druella knitted her hands together and beckoned to the two elegant chairs facing one another before the dormant fireplace. Bellatrix followed her over to the chairs, feeling apprehensive, and sat down. Druella perched herself opposite Bellatrix and said quietly,

"I thought it was time to have this chat, mother and daughter. You are well into the process of being courted; it is only reasonable that you know what to expect about the bit that comes next."

Bellatrix blinked. She shrugged a little and said, "I get married and move away with my husband, don't I?"

"It's… Bellatrix, there are certain duties that are incumbent upon a wife," said Druella, "and I want you to understand what those duties are."

"Duties," Bellatrix repeated. "You mean like keeping the household, the way you -"

"No. Bellatrix." Druella huffed a sigh. She shut her eyes and said, "Fertility is one of the greatest gifts bestowed upon witches. Motherhood is the finest role for a witch to ever hold. But getting there takes… well, it is an act unto itself, you understand."

"No, Mother. I do not understand." Bellatrix felt numb. She studied her mother's pink cheeks and read embarrassment. Druella pursed her lips and cleared her throat, sitting up so straight that she looked like a doll. She finally said in a stiff voice,

"On your wedding night, you and your husband will lie together for the first time. You will give him pleasure, and that is the way he will one day - hopefully quickly - put a child in you. You will lie with him often. It is the duty of wives."

"Lie with him." Bellatrix frowned, imagining lying on a bed in her gown with Mr Riddle beside her in his velvet breeches and waistcoat. She couldn't imagine how that would possibly end in a child. Was there magic involved? She must have looked very confused, because Druella let out a long, low breath and said,

"He will put his manhood between your legs, inside of you, and move it about. He will find his pleasure that way, and that is the way children are planted in witches' wombs."

"Oh." Bellatrix gulped. His manhood? His…  _penis?_  He was to put it inside her body, between her legs? And then he would feel good, and that would make a baby grow inside of Bellatrix? She gnawed her lip and nodded. "All right."

"Do you understand?" Druella asked. "These are the things that will be expected of you as a wife, Bellatrix."

"I… understand," she lied. She looked down at her hands in her lap and considered that Mr Riddle was coming the next day for another luncheon on the lawn. Perhaps, she thought, he might clarify this matter beyond what her mother had said.

* * *

"I do so love Brie cheese," Bellatrix said as the food appeared on the table. She and Mr Riddle had just come out to the lawn, and now she spread a bit of cheese onto some toasted bread as Mr Riddle took some roasted pears. He smiled a little at her, glanced over his shoulder, and said quietly,

"Work on Castle Praelia is coming along nicely. I've finished the stone walls of the keep and the four towers. I'm rather exhausted from the construction work, if I'm honest. I could hardly Apparate here today."

"Oh. I'm so sorry to have brought you here after such hard work," Bellatrix breathed, but Tom Riddle said softly,

"I am quite pleased to be here. And Castle Praelia will be magnificent when I've finished it. I look forward to hosting a dinner there for all my old school friends, including Cygnus Black III. Then he will see what Tom Riddle has to offer."

Bellatrix grinned. She chewed a bite of bread and cheese, and then she set down her food and sipped from her lavender tea. She sighed and asked carefully,

"What can you tell me about the act that occurs between witches and wizards on their wedding night, and on nights thereafter, Mr Riddle? The act in which a wizard places himself between a witch's legs and finds his pleasure, and thus puts a child inside of her?"

She studied his face, read the shock in his expression, and watched as he set down his pear and picked up his cup of tea. He took a sip and cleared his throat roughly.

"That… is a very  _distant_  way of describing what happens," he said. Bellatrix frowned.

"It's how my mother told me about it."

He choked a little laugh. "Yes, that is how Druella would explain it to her daughter. Hmm. What can I tell you about it?"

He brushed his thumb over his lip and stared at Bellatrix. She found him supremely attractive, all of a sudden. Even with his face shaded by his brown tricorn hat, even as old as he was, he was devastatingly handsome. He said to Bellatrix,

"When it's done properly, it bears mentioning,  _both_  people 'find their pleasure.' No wizard worth his salt would let a witch go through that act unsatisfied, though it's true that a great many do. Now. It is much better done naked, and it ought to begin with lots of touching. Lots of kissing. Things that make your breath go quick and your heart speed up. It can be anything you want, so long as it feels good."

"Like when you kissed me in the corridor and you touched me a little?" Bellatrix asked. Mr Riddle quirked up half his mouth and lowered his eyes.

"That was nothing," he said. "It gets far better than that."

"You speak from experience," Bellatrix guessed, and Mr Riddle was quiet for a moment until he raised his eyes and said,

"I am an old man, Miss Black. You'll forgive my ill-gotten youth, I hope. As a married man, I would be unflinchingly faithful. Would you like to know more about the act?"

"Yes, please." Bellatrix's lips had gone dry. She stared into his dark gaze, and he leaned forward a little as he murmured,

"You, the witch, may lie on your back. Or you might be atop the wizard. Or he may be behind you. There are so many options, and all of them should be utilised at some point. Anyway, once the wizard's member has gone hard with want, he can put it between your legs and thrust it back and forth. When done properly, this feels good for the witch, too. Sometimes it feels so good that everything seems to burst, like a spell backfiring."

Bellatrix shut her eyes. She felt dizzy. Her ears were ringing. She was seeing spots behind her eyelids. She wanted to be naked with Mr Riddle, she thought. She wanted to be atop him with him inside of her body.

"And if it's done well - really well - it all winds up as a tangled mess of sheets and sweaty limbs and two people kissing one another in the wake of -"

"Stop." Bellatrix was desperate now. She opened her eyes, and Mr Riddle looked concerned. He dabbed his napkin at his lips and nodded. His cheeks had gone pink.

"I took that too far. I apologise."

"No. It's… I want…" Bellatrix impulsively reached for his hand in his lap. She squeezed at his fingers, and she watched his throat bob. She waited for him to meet her eyes, and then she shook her head and whimpered,

"I don't want Rodolphus Lestrange to ever come back from Russia. I want you to finish your beautiful castle, and then I want to tell my parents that I'm going to marry you. And then I want to go live with you in your castle, and I want to learn Dark magic from you, and I want to watch you rise and become a very powerful wizard. And every night, I want you inside of me. I want all of that so very badly, Mr Riddle."

"Do you?" He put his lips into a line and nodded. "I want that, too, Miss Black."

"Bellatrix," she corrected him. He dragged his thumb over her fingers and whispered,

"Bellatrix."

* * *

"Asher, if all you're going to do is criticise, then I shall stop showing you."

Asher Avery rolled his eyes and flopped back onto Bellatrix's bed. She stood before him in undergarments and a corset, and she huffed. She pulled out another dress, and she heard Asher ask,

"Is it another taffeta one?"

"No; this one's raw silk," Bellatrix said. She used her wand to get the dress on and tied up. "What do you think?"

"So much better," breathed Asher, sitting up. "Is that the one you're going to wear to the wedding?"

"I think so." Bellatrix looked down at the elegant gown and sighed. The next day was the wedding of Decimus Malfoy and Faustina Malfoy.

"I think it's wretched," Asher huffed. "Their parents are siblings; they're first cousins. I know the Pureblood community is already a bit inbred, but… really. They grew up together. Practically siblings."

"It is a bit crass," Bellatrix agreed, "but Decimus presented himself as a suitor to Faustina, and out of all her choices, she chose her cousin."

"Wretched," Asher said again. "I was thinking of wearing olive green, but then I thought that would look putrid in Malfoy Manor."

"Perhaps a darker green," Bellatrix suggested. "More of a forest shade."

"Yes. That will do," Asher nodded. "Wear that gown; it's so much better than the others and you look marvelous in it. Really."

"Thanks." Bellatrix used her wand to pull off the gown again, and as she replaced it with her black cotton day dress, she heard Asher ask,

"How's Mr Lestrange doing in Russia?"

"Oh, I'm sure he's fine. I wrote to him again a few days ago, though I think I was rather perfunctory," Bellatrix admitted. "He is not my first choice. I'm not sure how to let him know that."

"So it's Mr Riddle." Asher raised his eyebrows. "The forty-something lifelong bachelor, orphaned Half-Blood, poor as a -"

"Soon enough, he's going to be very impressive," Bellatrix said firmly. Asher looked interested, and Bellatrix told him, "Soon enough, he'll be lord of his own fine estate, and once he's got my dowry, he'll have a fortune, too. And his mother was a Gaunt. He was also the finest pupil Hogwarts has ever seen, and he spent years studying advanced magic on the Continent."

"You think very highly of him." It wasn't a question. Asher slid off the bed and walked to where Bellatrix stood. He fingered her ringlets and tipped his head down at her. "You've fallen for him, haven't you? Silly girl."

Bellatrix shut her eyes and whispered. "I can't help it. He's… I…"

"Marry him, then," Asher suggested, and Bellatrix told him,

"I'm going to, as soon as I possibly can."

"As soon as he's lord of his own fine estate." Asher used Bellatrix's own words, so she just nodded. He sighed and told her,

"Do be careful, my darling friend. I only wish for your happiness. I hope he will give it to you."

"I think he will." Bellatrix heard the clock singing from downstairs, and Asher gave her a look.

"I've got to go," he said. "I'll see you at Malfoy Manor tomorrow, yes? Save me a minuet."

"I'll save you two," Bellatrix promised him, and she walked him out of her bedchamber.

**Author's Note: For those interested,** _**Praelia** _ **(in the castle's name) is a Latin term for** _**warrior.** _ **The name Bellatrix is also a Latin term for** _**warrior.** _

**Thank you very much for reading and a hundred thousand thanks for reviewing!**


	8. Changed Minds

The Malfoy wedding was the worst social event Bellatrix had ever attended. Abraxas Malfoy had entirely too much firewhisky to drink, and so the father of the bride's drunken toast was all about how he'd known his daughter would marry Decimus ever since the two of them had been children caught kissing. Everyone had been made profoundly uncomfortable, and Bellatrix herself had overindulged in red wine at dinner. The food at that dinner was less than palatable; the roast chicken had been dry and the potatoes had been underdone. During the reception, Amity Selwyn had taken some of the attention away by loudly and happily announcing her intention to marry Ebenezer Burke. People had applauded, but Bellatrix's stomach had twisted as she'd looked round and felt the keen absence of Mr Riddle.

"Do you suppose perhaps he wasn't invited?" Asher Avery had suggested halfway through a minuet, and Bellatrix had scowled at him.

"Why wouldn't he be invited? He and Abraxas Malfoy are old friends."

"Because, you know…" Asher had tipped his head.  _He's a Half-Blooded orphan,_  was what Asher meant, and Bellatrix had been so angered by that that she'd huffed off from Asher and not spoken to him for another twenty minutes.

Now she and her family were back in their house, and Bellatrix was tipsy from all the wine she'd had. She stomped through the foyer and up the stairs, and her mother called after her,

"Whatever is the matter, Bellatrix?"

"She's just angry that the old man she pines after wasn't there tonight," teased Andromeda.

Bellatrix growled and went into her bedchamber, slamming the door shut. She used her wand to untie the back of her gown and wriggled out of it, hanging it up in her wardrobe. She began stripping off her corset and her undergarments, and as she pulled on a nightgown, someone knocked on her bedchamber door.

"What is it?" Bellatrix snapped. Her bedroom door slowly opened, and Druella Black came walking in holding an envelope.

"A letter came for you whilst we were gone," she said. "It came from St Petersburg."

"Oh." Bellatrix huffed. "Give it here, will you, Mother?"

She snatched the envelope from Druella and pushed shut her wardrobe door. She broke the seal of the envelope and pulled out the letter inside, reading by the light of the flickering wall sconces.

_Dear Miss Black,_

_I confess to feeling as though your last letter was just the slightest bit cursory. I certainly do not say this as an accusation; rather I write with concern that I have offended you in some way. I hope with all sincerity that I am still in your favour. I can not properly express to you, Miss Black, how thoroughly the notion of your company has consumed my thoughts whilst I have been on this mission to Russia. I think often of your beauty, your wit, and your boldness. I very frequently wonder to myself what life might be like as your husband, and my imagination paints a very pleasant picture. I do hope that the possibility of marriage between us still exists. It would be the highest honour I that could be accorded unto me, Miss Black. I do hope you will write to me again soon, even if it is only a few words. Every word from you is golden, you see._

_Yours very sincerely,_

_Rodolphus Lestrange_

"Oh. He needs to know," Bellatrix murmured.

"He needs to know what?" Druella snapped. Bellatrix looked up at her mother, feeling her eyes go heavy with tears. She just stared, and Druella shook her head.

"Don't tell me you've become infatuated with that man," she said. "Don't tell me that Tom Marvolo Riddle has captured your fancy so thoroughly as all that, Bellatrix. You know better."

"Do I?" Bellatrix's voice was thick. Druella snatched the letter from Rodolphus and took a moment to read it. She scoffed and shrugged, giving Bellatrix a helpless look.

"This boy is practically in love with you. He comes from fine stock. He is wealthy. He is young. Why wouldn't you marry him?"

"Because I want someone else," Bellatrix said simply.

"Well," Druella choked, "you'll not get my blessing if your choice is a Half-Blood with no estate. He lives in some little house! Some cottage somewhere!"

"A place where the sea is sometimes blue, and sometimes green, and sometimes grey," Bellatrix murmured, and her mother narrowed her eyes. Bellatrix gulped. "It's not forever. He's going to be someone very important."

"Yes, so your father tells me all the time," Druella sighed. "I don't know how Tom has managed to convince all his old friends, and now you, of this notion that he's going to become a powerful figure."

"It's the truth," Bellatrix said. "I can feel it."

"You can  _feel it_ ," Druella repeated, shaking her head. She held up the letter from Rodolphus and exclaimed, "You've got a perfectly wonderful suitor begging you to accept him!"

"But I won't accept him, because I want someone else," Bellatrix said, the volume of her voice steadily increasing until she was almost shouting. "Can't you see that I -"

"I see that you've gone mad with an infatuation that I do not understand," Druella snarled back. "He is a man your father's age, Bellatrix, who spent the first eleven years of his life begging for food from Muggles on the streets of London!"

"Yes, and then he went to Hogwarts and he tasted baked pumpkin with butter, and he never looked back!" Bellatrix exclaimed. Druella looked shocked, but Bellatrix continued, "He is going to be more powerful than any Minister of Magic has ever been. You just wait and see."

"From where are you deriving this confidence in him?" Druella shrieked, and Bellatrix thumped her fist against her heart.

"From in here!"

"What the blazes is going on?" Cygnus Black III appeared at the doorway of Bellatrix's bedchamber, and Druella whirled around to face her husband.

"Our eldest daughter is insane," Druella said. "She thinks that Tom Riddle is going to be a very powerful wizard, and therefore she ought to marry him."

"Well," Cygnus mused thoughtfully, holding his tricorn hat from the party, "I think Bellatrix is quite right that Tom's going to become something grand. You haven't been at these dinners, Druella. You haven't heard him speak. He's… he speaks of putting witches and wizards in their rightful place, separate from and above Muggles. He speaks of the way Muggles rarely bathe, the way they stink with a distinct and awful stench. He talks about how they allow their poor to starve, to rot away with putrid disease. He talks about their wars, fought with gruesome weaponry over silly matters. Muggles are lesser in every way, Tom says. We mustn't mingle with them."

"But…" Druella looked confused. "But he is a Half-Blood."

Cygnus nodded. "He always refers to his father as a  _filthy Muggle._ It is wrong, he says, for Muggles and magical people to mix and mingle. It ought not happen at all. Furthermore, he says, the magical community deserves to be situated atop Muggles, since we are their superiors."

"And he intends on facilitating this?" Bellatrix breathed, feeling dizzy. "With a movement he will lead, is that it?"

"Well, that is his long-term goal, but of course it all starts with dinner parties," Cygnus said. "I have confidence that someday, he will indeed be something great. Druella, you underestimate him."

"Oh. I… hmm." Druella carefully folded the letter in her hands, the letter from Rodolphus Lestrange. She passed it over to Bellatrix, and Druella said a bit defensively, "None of it matters. He lives in some little cottage, like a pauper. He has no pedigree."

"His mother was a Gaunt," Bellatrix reminded her mother. Druella threw her hands up and exclaimed,

"I still think that Rodolphus Lestrange is a much better choice."

"Well. This has been a wonderful conversation. Mother, thank you so much for your valued opinion." Bellatrix pinched her lips. "I'd like to go to bed now."

Druella sighed. She put her hand on Cygnus' arm and started to walk from the room.

"Goodnight, Bellatrix," said Cygnus. Bellatrix put up a hand to bid her parents goodnight. Once they shut the door, Bellatrix opened the letter from Rodolphus and read it three times over again. She sat down at her desk in her room, deciding she'd send the letter off with an owl until contracts had been signed, but that she wanted to write it now. She dipped a quill into ink and touched it to the parchment, writing,

_Dear Mr Lestrange,_

_I am sorry to disappoint you, and I am exceedingly grateful for your courtship, but I have decided to wed Mr Tom Riddle. I do hope you will understand my decision, and I wish you all health and happiness in your endeavours._

_Sincerely,_

_Bellatrix Black_

* * *

Bellatrix sighed as she used her wand to drag the green thread back and forth through the hovering embroidery hoop. She was creating grass for a pastoral scene. She glanced over to where her sisters were reading, neither of them able to do magical embroidery outside of school. But Druella was also stitching with nonverbal spells. An Enchanted harp in the corner of the blue parlour was playing a tune that was nearly putting Bellatrix to sleep. She wanted to be outside. It was a beautiful, sunny day, and she was trapped in this stuffy parlour.

Suddenly, Banny the House-Elf appeared at the doorway of the blue parlour, and he wasn't alone. Bellatrix gasped and flew to her feet when she saw that Tom Riddle was with the House-Elf.

"Mr Riddle has come," Banny said, stating the obvious. All four of the witches in the room stood and dipped into curtsies, and Mr Riddle stepped into the parlour, giving a low and respectful bow.

"Madam Black," he said to Druella, "I promise that I will not interrupt you for long at your tasks. Indeed, this certainly could have been done by owl, but… I wanted to come to extend an invitation to the entire Black family."

"An invitation," Druella repeated, frowning. "What sort of invitation?"

"I should like very much to host you all for dinner at my new home, Castle Praelia. I have brought a map - it is located in Emelle, near Dover." He pulled a folded parchment out of his waistcoat pocket and approached Druella. Druella opened the map and then looked at Bellatrix, who found herself smiling broadly.

"Castle Praelia," Druella said. "You have a castle? I thought you lived in a little cottage."

"I did, until construction of my castle was complete," Mr Riddle said simply. "The castle's House-Elves - both of them - have proven themselves fine cooks, though one in particular is especially good with French recipes. I instructed the Elf to prepare baked brie with caramelised onions."

He looked to Bellatrix and nodded, and she felt like she was going to faint. He knew brie was her favourite. Her mother knew that, too. Bellatrix licked her lip and found herself desperate to walk up to Mr Riddle and throw her arms around him.

"Tom!"

Cygnus Black appeared in the doorway of the parlour, and Mr Riddle clasped arms with him. Druella Black cleared her throat and told her husband,

"Mr Riddle has come to invite us to dinner at his newly-constructed residence, Castle Praelia, near Dover."

"A castle." Cygnus' brows flew up. His mouth dropped open, and suddenly everything seemed right to Bellatrix. Her heart was racing. She stared at her mother, who was gazing at the map Mr Riddle had given her. Druella still seemed lost in disbelief about the idea that Tom Riddle had a castle. The night before, she'd been amazed by the notion that Mr Riddle had a real agenda for change, and that people believed he would become powerful.

"Mother," Bellatrix said, and Druella looked up. Bellatrix nodded. "I have decided."

Druella's face went pale then. Bellatrix turned her face to her father, who still had surprise painted on his face. Then Bellatrix met Tom Riddle's dark eyes, and she walked toward him, tipping up her chin. She descended into a very deep curtsy, held it for a long moment, and when she rose, she said,

"Mr Riddle, I accept your gracious proposal of marriage. I very much look forward to becoming your wife."

"Miss Black." He immediately descended to a knee, genuflecting before her and taking her hand in his. He kissed her knuckles, and Bellatrix heard her sisters gasping.

"Did they really just -" Narcissa hissed, and Andromeda cut her off with a shush.

Mr Riddle stood again, and Bellatrix smiled up at him. She nodded.

"How wondrous it will be," she said, "to live with you in Castle Praelia. And your future is so very bright."

"But we must have dinner to celebrate, mustn't we?" exclaimed Cygnus, "and to see the castle?"

"Of course. I hope you will all come tonight, and we shall all raise a glass and discuss the wedding," Mr Riddle said, staring into Bellatrix's eyes. Bellatrix looked over to Druella, whose eyes seemed to have gone very wet. Druella nodded, seeming quite serious, and she said,

"Yes. We simply must see your castle, Mr Riddle, if you are to become our son-in-law."

**Author's Note: So, they're officially engaged, but a few things need to happen now. Contracts need to be signed, the dowry needs to be agreed upon (75,000 Galleons!), wedding plans need to happen, and, oh yeah, we need a tour of the castle he** _**made from scratch** _ **. Looking forward to writing the next few chapters. Mwah hahaha.**

**Thank you so kindly for reading, and a massive thanks for reviewing.**


	9. Powerful

"Are you certain you know where you're going, Bellatrix?" asked Cygnus Black III. Bellatrix smoothed her taffeta skirts and nodded. She had carefully studied the map of Emelle showing where Castle Praelia was perched near the cliffs along the sea. There had been a small sketch of the castle, with its turrets and walls, and Bellatrix felt confident that she could imagine her destination well enough to Apparate there.

"Bellatrix." Druella walked over to her daughter and stared down at her. Bellatrix looked up at her mother, tipping up her chin a bit, and waited. Druella said, "Perhaps your father is right. Perhaps I have underestimated him."

Bellatrix smirked just a little bit. Now that he had a castle and might be receiving Bellatrix's sizeable dowry, Druella thought differently of Mr Riddle. Her mother was so very fickle, Bellatrix thought. She was so driven by status. Well, fine. Mr Riddle's status would continue to rise, so Druella could continue being impressed.

"We shall aim for the castle gates," Druella Black said. "Narcissa, you come with me. Andromeda, go with your father. Bellatrix, be careful Apparating on your own. Aim for the gates of Castle Praelia. Everyone ready? Here we go."

When they Disapparated from the Black family home, Bellatrix's stomach churned with anticipation. In the split second of transport, she found herself wondering whether she looked all right. She had worn a gown made almost entirely of black lace, and her hair had been carefully styled in a pouf atop her head with a dozen small curls over one shoulder. She wore her black pearl necklace and her black velvet shoes. She hoped Mr Riddle would find her pretty enough today. When she landed, Bellatrix stumbled a bit, and it took everything she had not to fall.

Then she gasped, because she found herself overwhelmed by the scene before her. Seagulls soared overhead, screeching as they made their way down toward the water below them. That sea was aquamarine in the evening sun, and it lay beyond cliff faces, with a wide beach before it. Bellatrix's eyes watered as she took in the sight of the sea, of the ocean he'd described to her. She heard the pops of her family Apparating nearby, and then Andromeda gasped and mused,

"My, he really has built himself quite a castle, hasn't he?"

Bellatrix whirled, realising that she'd landed facing the water and hadn't yet seen Castle Praelia. Now she turned and felt her eyes go round as saucers.

There was a wall of grey stone standing about two metres high running in a rectangular perimeter, with grand iron gates at the centre, and that was where the Black family had now gathered. Beyond those gates was a perfectly symmetrical castle that took Bellatrix's breath away. The turrets on the sides were round, in the French style. Each tower was enormous, and the large windows upon them appeared to be stained glass. In each connecting segment of stone keep, there were a total of twenty-four windows - eight on each level of the castle. Bellatrix could see curtains through the windows, and in one case could see furniture in a ground-level parlour. The castle was enormous, far larger than the Black family home and at least as large as Malfoy Manor.

"How did he come by this castle again?" Druella breathed, and Bellatrix decided that the truth served best just now. She met her mother's eyes and said,

"He did this through the sheer force of his abilities. He is so powerful, Mother. He made this."

"My goodness." Druella sniffed a little and shrugged. "I think I have indeed underestimated Tom."

Suddenly the iron gates began to slowly swing open, and then Bellatrix saw a wizened-looking House-Elf trotting toward them.

"Esteemed Family Black," said the House-Elf in a loud and somewhat cheerful voice. "Welcome to Castle Praelia. Come! Come inside; the air is cool and my master wishes to receive you."

Narcissa looked at Bellatrix and giggled a bit. Bellatrix smirked as her parents and Andromeda followed the House-Elf through the gates. Narcissa walked up to Bellatrix and held her arm.

"Imagine living here," Narcissa whispered. "Imagine being the lady of this magnificent castle, Bellatrix."

"It's… I can't believe he did this," Bellatrix breathed. "I can't believe he used his magic to create this. He is magnificent. He is so powerful."

"You really want to marry him, don't you?" Narcissa asked as she and Bellatrix approached the great black front doors of the castle.

"Yes, I do," Bellatrix confirmed. The little House-Elf used magic to draw the doors open, and Bellatrix gulped. She followed her parents and Andromeda into the castle, walking through the double doors and into a very impressive foyer. Bellatrix gasped as she looked around and the doors shut behind her. There was a massive staircase sweeping up in a spiral around the outside of the foyer, with banners on the wall bearing a strange and terrifying symbol - a skull with a serpent curling out of its mouth.

"Thank you, Hinky," said a voice, and Bellatrix turned her face to see a wizard walking through a large archway. Mr Riddle looked handsome in an elegant ensemble of midnight blue silk breeches and matching cloak with a cream-coloured waistcoat. His slightly greying hair had been pulled back into a queue tied with a ribbon matching his midnight blue clothes. He looked…

He looked wealthy.

Bellatrix smiled a little at him as he met her eyes. He dipped into a reverent bow to Cygnus and Druella, who both gave their own obeisances alongside Narcissa and Andromeda. Bellatrix stepped toward Mr Riddle and stood before him, descending into a low curtsy that she held until he murmured,

"Miss Black. How glad I am to see you."

"Mr Riddle." Bellatrix rose, and he shocked her then. He cupped her jaw in his hand and bent, touching his lips to her forehead. Bellatrix felt her cheeks go warm, and she shut her eyes.

"Would you like to see your castle?" he asked her quietly, and she nodded, his hand still on her cheek. She opened her eyes and looked up at him, and she told him in a whisper,

"It's astonishing, what you have done."

"It is for you," he said, "and for… well, it is for us."

"For us," Bellatrix nodded. Then her stomach fluttered and her heart raced, and she said again, "Us."

"What a marvelous castle you have constructed, Tom," Druella said, and Mr Riddle lowered his hand and stepped away from Bellatrix. Her cheeks were absolutely on fire as she turned to watch him walk toward her parents.

"I should very much like to show you the place, Druella," Tom Riddle said. "Cygnus. Ladies. Do come this way, won't you?"

Narcissa giggled again, this time walking with Andromeda. Bellatrix hurried up to walk near Mr Riddle, and she flashed her mother a broad grin as she passed. Mr Riddle led them out of the foyer and through a broad archway into an elegant wood-paneled parlour. There were tapestries on the walls and huge windows that faced the front with views of the sea. The curtains were burgundy and gold and reached from the ceiling the floor. A grand piano took up part of the room, and the other part was consumed by a divan and two elegant chairs before a marble fireplace.

"Well, this is lovely," Druella mused. "Do you play the piano, Tom?"

"Sadly, I do not," he said. "It's just for show, like most of the things in the castle. On we go."

They saw another drawing room and the entrance to the grassy, sunny courtyard. Bellatrix looked out upon the courtyard, in the middle of which sat a fountain. The design of the fountain was water shooting out the end of a fired arrow, which Bellatrix thought was intriguing.

"It's lovely," she breathed. Mr Riddle smiled down at her, and then they continued their tour. They saw the library, which extended two storeys and contained so many books that Bellatrix couldn't fathom where he'd gotten them all. Surely he hadn't Conjured them. She gave him a strange look, and he shrugged.

"I had quite the collection amassed from my years on the Continent," he said quietly. "Expanded bags for storage, you know."

"Oh." Bellatrix stepped into the library and touched at one of the ladders. She studied the wood grain and imagined the effort, the sheer power it must have taken to Conjure this library, and her eyes watered. Narcissa stepped up to her as Mr Riddle chatted with Druella and Cygnus and Andromeda studied a bookshelf.

"This castle is unbelievable, Bellatrix," Narcissa hissed. "You're to marry him and be the lady of this castle. I can't believe it."

"I can't believe he did this," Bellatrix whispered.

"Girls! Come now; we're going to see the ballroom!"

"Ooh! The ballroom!" squealed Narcissa. Bellatrix reluctantly pulled away from the ladder and followed everyone out of the library. She walked down the arched stone corridor and dragged her fingers along the wall. He had made this. He had Conjured this place. His magic ran deep; it was powerful. He was powerful.

"Here it is!" Andromeda was not usually one to get overly excited, but as they crossed back through the foyer and entered into the other side of the castle, Andromeda put her hands to her mouth and seemed shocked. Bellatrix moved into the space and could hardly breathe.

Even in the glow of the evening, it was spectacular. The ceiling was like that at Hogwarts; it was Enchanted. Right now it twinkled with an incredible array of galaxies, nebulae, and stars set against a black velvet backdrop. The black and white marble floor of the ballroom was absolutely stunning. The space was large enough to host a party of at least a hundred. One side of the ballroom had doors that appeared to open up to the courtyard, which would give a party even more space. Bellatrix stepped out onto the marble floor and stared up at the night sky above her, marveling at it. He had made this, she thought. He had created this, in so very little time.

"Mr Riddle," she said softly, and suddenly a voice was right beside her asking,

"What do you think of it all, Miss Black?"

She lowered her eyes to look at him, and she smiled weakly.

"I think you are magnificent."

He smirked and licked his lip. "Do you like your castle?"

"Very much." Bellatrix walked with him to the oversized black and white marble fireplace as her family admired the space. She asked him quietly, "What does it mean? Castle Praelia?"

"Warrior," he said at once. "It means  _warrior_."

Her mouth fell open a little then.  _Bellatrix_  meant  _warrior._  He'd named this castle after her. He…

"Mr Riddle," Bellatrix said, her voice thick as tears welled in her eyes. He touched at her shoulder, quite gently, and he asked,

"Shall we have the wedding here? We'll dance minuets until our feet hurt."

"Yes. That sounds marvelous." Bellatrix raised her eyes to him and asked, "Can my friend Asher Avery come here sometimes?"

Mr Riddle curled up half his mouth and nodded. "Yes, of course he can. But you'll be very busy, you know, learning the Dark Arts from me."

"Do you promise?" Bellatrix whispered, hearing her parents' footsteps from behind her. "Do you promise to teach me all sorts of Dark things?"

"Yes. I promise," he said.

"Tom," Cygnus said, "have you got a study in this great, massive house of yours? I've brought the contract for you both to sign. I think we can all agree it's time for that."

They left the ballroom then, moving through the elegant dining room and past the House-Elves' kitchens. They went to the back of the castle, to another wood-paneled room with heavy curtains. This one had a stout desk with a chair behind it. Mr Riddle took out his wand and Summoned over a few other chairs that were situated along the perimeter of the room. Narcissa and Andromeda had gone out to the courtyard, so it was just Mr Riddle, Cygnus, Druella, and Bellatrix. Everyone took a seat, with Mr Riddle behind the desk. He opened the drawer and pulled out four self-inking quills, handing one to each person. Cygnus pulled out a folded stack of parchments from the inside of his robe, and he set them down on the desk.

"Now," he said with a huff, "these are the contract documents. There are two copies - one for the Black family, and one for you, Tom. Please do feel free to read the contract in its entirety before you sign."

Mr Riddle picked up the first piece of parchment and began to read aloud.

" _Whereas Bellatrix of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black has consented to marriage to the wizard Tom Marvolo Riddle, this contract affirms the terms and conditions under which said marriage shall satisfy the needs and desires of all involved parties to mutual satisfaction."_

Bellatrix felt anxiety wash over her. Was Mr Riddle going to read out bits about her lying with him, like her mother had talked about? Was that part of the contract? She honestly had no idea. But then Mr Riddle began reading sections outlining the transfer of Bellatrix's belongings to the home of Mr Riddle, and the condition that Bellatrix and any offspring make regular visits to the Black family. He read parts insisting that the Black family be permitted to see their daughter and grandchildren every Christmas Day and that Mr Riddle not speak ill of Cygnus or Druella in public, and then there was a confusing part that made Bellatrix frown.

" _Every effort shall be made to secure offspring within the marriage as expeditiously as possible._ "

"What does that mean?" Bellatrix asked quietly, and Mr Riddle raised his eyebrows at her.

"It means we shall try very hard to have a child quickly," he said, and Bellatrix tried to swallow past the knot in her throat.

"Oh."

" _Adultery, violence, or other egregious offences against Bellatrix of the House of Black shall be cause not only for dissolution of the marriage, but for repayment in full of the bridal dowry,"_  read Mr Riddle. He nodded, looking from Cygnus to Druella. He spoke carefully then. "Will there be a bridal dowry?"

"Yes, of course there will be," Cygnus said in a firm voice. Druella looked hesitant for a moment, glancing around the impressive study. She sighed and said,

"I think I have spent many years without a full understanding of you, Tom."

"Well. That's all in the past, Druella," Mr Riddle said graciously. "Now I am marrying your daughter, and you and I shall be kin."

"Of course you and Bellatrix must have the seventy-five thousand Galleons," Druella insisted. "It is her right as a bride to bring it to her marriage."

"Thank you." Mr Riddle touched his quill to the parchment and signed it. He signed the other copy, and then it was Bellatrix's turn. Her hand shook like mad as she sketched out her name. Then her parents signed, and Mr Riddle filed away his copy in the desk drawer whilst Cygnus tucked his own copy in his breast pocket.

"Cygnus. Druella," Mr Riddle said. "Why don't you go get the girls? We'll meet you in the dining room. You remember the way, don't you?"

"Oh. Yes, it's just out… erm, are you two coming to dinner?" Druella asked as she and Cygnus rose.

"I'd like just a moment to speak with Miss… with Bellatrix. If you don't mind," said Mr Riddle. Druella looked a bit sceptical, but she curtsied to Mr Riddle and followed her husband out of the study. Once they'd gone, Mr Riddle flicked his wand toward the door, and it slowly closed. He walked around the desk, and Bellatrix pulled herself to her feet.

But he immediately pushed her back against the desk, and she gasped. He had one hand at the small of her back and another hand on her face before she knew it. He bent and touched his lips to hers, and she breathed him in. He deepened the kiss, pushing his tongue into her mouth and twining it against hers. He suckled her lip and elicited a moan from her as her hands flew to his chest. She massaged him through his waistcoat, feeling a desperate need to be rid of their clothes. She wanted to touch his skin, to feel his flesh. She wanted so much more of him.

"How did you do this?" she gasped as he pulled his mouth away. Then she cried out, for he had put his mouth to her neck and began sucking and nibbling at her there. Bellatrix touched at his hair, worried she would muss his queue, and she felt something rigid prodding her thigh. She realised he was grinding up against her, and that he'd gone hard in his breeches. She was warm and wet between her legs as he kissed her neck, as his hands moved all over her corseted torso and up and down her arms. She grappled at his shoulders and moaned again, far more loudly this time.

"Hush," he scolded her. "Your mother will hear you."

"I want you," Bellatrix puffed. "So badly. I need you."

"You'll have me. All the time," he promised. He smirked at her, dragging his thumb along his lip and looking so handsome Bellatrix felt like she'd faint. "Do you like your castle?"

"Yes!" She was almost exasperated by how badly she craved him right now. "How did you do this?"

"Power," he said simply. "When do you want to be married?"

"Tomorrow," she grinned. "No. Today."

"Well. Let's be realistic." He bent down and touched his mouth to hers for a moment, then hovered his lips a hair's breadth from hers and murmured, "We have to give it a month, probably. Time for your gown to be made. Time for preparations. Time for invitations to go out…"

"A month," Bellatrix whined, but he laughed a little and said,

"That's being pushy, if we're honest."

"Oh, please kiss me again," Bellatrix hummed. She felt his breath on her wet lips and shivered. "You are so powerful, Conjuring this entire magnificent castle. Have you any notion what it does to me, thinking about you like that, Mr Riddle? Thinking about how powerful you are?'

"You mustn't call me that if we're to be married," Mr Riddle insisted. "It's entirely too formal, don't you think?"

He brushed his lips against Bellatrix's, and she put her hands to his chest. She smiled then and shut her eyes as she teased,

"But you are the lord of a castle now. Perhaps I ought to call you  _My Lord_."

He froze against her, his breath going still. His hands stopped moving on her torso. Bellatrix opened her eyes, concerned. She frowned at him, but he whispered,

"Say that again, Bellatrix."

She grinned. "My Lord."

"Oh." His throat bobbed, and his hands flew to Bellatrix's face. He seized her and crushed her mouth with hers, kissing her so hard that she squealed and squeezed at his midnight blue outer robe.

"Bellatrix!"

Mr Riddle flew off of her, staggering away and dragging his wrist over his lips. Bellatrix stared in wide-eyed shock at her mother, who had opened the door to the study and was now glaring at Mr Riddle.

"Your House-Elf wasn't sure if you wanted to serve white wine or red with the fish, Tom, and I didn't know what to tell it," Druella snapped. "Do come out, the both of you, and have dinner."

**Author's Note: Caught! Naughty, naughty. But that castle does sound grand, doesn't it? And she called him** _**My Lord.** _ **Hehehe. Now, who's ready for Asher to be wayyyyy too excited about wedding planning?**

**Sorry for the late update; we had a big political event here in the U.S. that took up my writing time tonight. I appreciate you reading and give your House fifty points for reviewing. :)**


	10. Confidence

"You do realise that you can't wear black to your own wedding?" Asher Avery plopped a grape into his mouth. Bellatrix sighed and took a bite of hard cheese. She swallowed and took a sip of tea, looking over the lawn upon which she and Asher were sitting.

"Of course I can wear black," she insisted, but Asher scoffed and shook his head, the plume in his hat blowing in the breeze.

"No, you very well must not. You'd look funereal."

"You sound like my mother," Bellatrix complained, and Asher raised his brows.

"Well, she's right about this. If you wear black to your wedding, it shall be dour and sorrowful instead of celebratory. Choose a better colour. You know I've said you would look marvelous in red."

"I don't want to wear red," grumbled Bellatrix. "How about grey? We can decorate the gown with my wedding flowers."

"Your wedding flowers," Asher repeated. "Have you settled on what those will be?"

"I was thinking… peach roses," Bellatrix said. "For a wedding at the end of August, it feels like a fitting flower."

"So, a grey gown adorned with peach silk roses." Asher narrowed his eyes and popped another grape into his mouth. "I can see it now. Silk taffeta with white lace accents. Skirts pulled back from the white lace centre with peach silk roses on the skirts and at the shoulders."

"Sounds decadent," Bellatrix said. She sighed. "There are so many wizarding customs surrounding weddings. I can't keep track of them all."

Asher smirked. "You mustn't look in a mirror on your wedding day, or you shall have eight months of infertility."

"We wouldn't want that," Bellatrix huffed. "Must make a baby as quick as you please."

"And is that what you want, Bellatrix?" Asher asked. "To make a baby quickly?"

"I just want him," Bellatrix said honestly. She took another bite of cheese and murmured, "I shall have Narcissa and Andromeda as bridesmaids, but he shall stand alone. Abraxas Malfoy is marrying us."

"What customs are you using?" Asher asked. "The ancient Pureblood rites, or the more modern -"

"Oh, do you honestly think my parents would allow me to do anything modern?" Bellatrix laughed. She shook her head. "No, he shall walk in holding incense, and the girls shall walk in holding candles. We shall have a handfasting and will chant the binding spells. We will make the ancient vows in the ancestral tongue, so I will have to memorise them. And then we will be husband and wife."

"And will that make you very happy?" Asher asked. "Will it make you very happy to be his wife?"

Bellatrix felt her eyes well. She nodded and whispered, "If you could see what he has made, Asher…"

"Well, I shall see it, on the day of your wedding," Asher reminded her. "The invitations all had a map to Castle Praelia. I look forward to seeing this grand library and the great ballroom you've described."

"Asher," Bellatrix mused, sipping more tea, "Do you suppose there's a reason he chose to have the fountain in his courtyard be a bow and arrow?"

Asher gave her a playful smile and picked up his own teacup before saying quietly, "Orion, of course."

"Orion. What do you mean, Orion?" Bellatrix asked. Asher raised his eyebrows.

"Weren't you paying attention in school? Bellatrix, the star, is the shoulder of the constellation Orion. And Orion, the hunter, wields a -"

"Bow and arrow," Bellatrix breathed. Her eyes seared like fire all of a sudden. Castle Praelia -  _warrior_. He'd named the castle after her. He'd put a fountain in the courtyard in homage to her name. Suddenly she remembered the starry night sky in the ballroom, and she realised that when she'd looked up and had seen nebulae and galaxies, she'd also seen one constellation quite clearly - the constellation Orion. It had stuck out against the rest of the sky, almost as though those stars had been intended to be highlighted. The shoulder of Orion was the star Bellatrix.

"He cares for you," Asher said softly. Bellatrix raised her eyes to him and whispered,

"Not half so much as I care for him."

"You have made the only choice you could have ever made, my dear friend." Asher reached for Bellatrix's hand and squeezed it. She picked up her teacup with her free hand, shaking fiercely as she sipped the rest of her tea and said,

"Peach roses for the decorations, then, including on my grey gown. I expect you to be dressed to the nines, Asher."

* * *

"Bellatrix? An owl has come for you." Andromeda came walking into the library. Bellatrix was sitting at the window with a book about charms for hairstyles. Bellatrix set down her book and flicked her eyes up to Andromeda. Her sister approached with an envelope, which she held out as she said, "It's from St Petersburg."

"Of course it is," Bellatrix huffed. She took the letter and turned it over, examining the Lestrange family seal. She sighed and broke the seal, and she raised her eyes to Andromeda as her younger sister asked,

"What does it say?"

Bellatrix opened the envelope and pulled out the letter. She unfolded it and cleared her throat, and she read aloud.

_"Dear Miss Black,_

_I could not possibly begin to express to you how devastated I am to hear that you have decided not to give me the chance to properly court you. I had only the scant bit of time to visit with you before I left for St Petersburg, and now you have chosen someone else. I suppose it is my own fault for leaving, though I did not exactly have much of a choice. I am incredibly disheartened to hear that you have selected another wizard to wed. I had hoped to give you a long, happy life with the two of us making one another quite contented. I am so very full of sorrow at this news._

_And yet, I must congratulate you most heartily on your engagement, and I must wish you every happiness. I hope for health, for both you and Mr Riddle. I hope for your prosperity. I hope you will have many beautiful children. I do hope, Miss Black, that the life you will build with Mr Riddle will be endlessly fulfilling and supremely pleasant. I wish you joy. I wish you peace._

_Be well, Miss Black. I am very sorry that my chance to be yours has come and gone so swiftly. Despite the helpless sensation of disappointment, I am truly happy for you. Allow me to reiterate my most hearty congratulations._

_Most deeply and sincerely,_

_Rodolphus Lestrange._ "

Bellatrix sighed and licked her lip carefully. She raised her eyes to Andromeda and shook her head a little. Andromeda's mouth had fallen open.

"That's quite a letter," Andromeda said. "Are you  _quite_  certain you don't want to marry him? He seems like quite a fine wizard."

"Well, why don't you wait until you're seventeen, and then you can marry him, if you think he's so wonderful?" Bellatrix snapped. She yanked out her wand and aimed it at the letter. " _Evanesco._ "

Andromeda gasped as Rodolphus' letter Vanished into the ether. She scowled at Bellatrix and hissed,

"As it happens, I've got plans for when I am seventeen."

"What do you mean by that?" Bellatrix frowned. Andromeda looked like she was biting her tongue. She shrugged.

"Nothing."

"What do you mean, you've got plans?" Bellatrix demanded. Andromeda said lightly,

"I mean to choose my own husband. Outside the realm of the normal courting process. If I should fall in love with a wizard, or, you know, a Muggle -"

"What the blazes? Andromeda Black, swallow those filthy words!" Bellatrix cried. "Don't you ever say such things again! The very idea of a member of the House of Black mingling with a Muggle! You disgust me with the very suggestion."

Andromeda's cheeks had gone red, and she shrugged again.

"I didn't mean… none of you understand."

"None of us understand?" Bellatrix scoffed loudly. "Andromeda, if you ever say anything like that to me again, I shall see to it that you are punished terribly. Don't you ever,  _ever_  suggest that a Pureblood witch should marry a Muggle. Don't you  _ever_  say that again."

"You're one to give lectures on marriage," Andromeda said, narrowing her eyes. "You've chosen an old man over a kind, warm, affectionate young option. You're a bloody fool, Bellatrix."

"If choosing Mr Riddle makes me a fool in your eyes, Andromeda, I find that I'm quite all right with that," Bellatrix scowled. "At least I'm not suggesting marriage with the disgusting Muggles who swarm like insects across this country."

"I'm through talking about this," Andromeda insisted. "We shall not come to an accord; it does no good for us to argue."

"Fine. Go away, then," Bellatrix snapped. "You interrupted my reading."

Andromeda whirled on her heel and stormed out of the library, and Bellatrix sat back down with her book on hairstyles.

* * *

Bellatrix stared at her reflection in her full-length mirror, her heart pounding with the cadence of a deer outrunning a hunter. She was wearing a simple black wool dress, unadorned and plain, with her hair pulled into a thick braid over her right shoulder. Ordinarily, it would not be unreasonable for Bellatrix to be dressed like this, except that it was almost one o'clock in the morning.

Bellatrix held her wand in her right hand and gulped, shutting her eyes and imagining Castle Praelia. She let out a shaking breath and tried to convince herself not to go. She tried to convince herself to stay in her bedchamber. It was almost one o'clock in the morning. What was she thinking? She had gone mad. She was mad.

She Disapparated, whirling hard to the right and disappearing into the black, pinching void. She came to with a crash, landing hard on her knees. She seethed through clenched teeth as she realised that one knee had careened against a stone. Bellatrix heaved herself to her feet, listening to the waves crashing on the beach below the cliffs. Bellatrix limped forward, wondering if she ought to fix up her knee. But she reckoned she was all right, and she squinted in the darkness as she approached the iron gates in the stone perimeter wall. Bellatrix wrapped her fingers around the iron gate and cleared her throat, gazing up in the darkness at the shadowy silhouette of the massive castle before her.

"Erm… hello? Mr Riddle? Hello? It's me. It's Bellatrix Black," she called. She had no idea why she was yelling into the darkness. He was asleep, undoubtedly. There was no chance he could hear her. She was yelling into the blank night with no one to hear.

"Bellatrix?" A voice came through the darkness. " _Lumos._ "

Bellatrix gasped as a slightly pulsing bluish light illuminated the face of Mr Riddle. She was shocked as he came walking from the castle to the gate, appearing to be wearing a dark tartan silk robe over a nightshirt. Bellatrix's mouth fell open and she staggered backward, watching as Mr Riddle opened the gate and smiled a little in the light of his wand.

"What brings you to your castle, Bellatrix?" Mr Riddle asked, and Bellatrix couldn't help but smirk a little as she followed him through the gate and toward the castle door.

"I ought not to have come," she said at once. "It is incredibly inappropriate. It is the middle of the night. I am disturbing you. We are not yet married."

"Quite literally none of those things are problematic for me, I find," Mr Riddle mused. He opened the great front door of the castle, and once they were inside, he called out, "Tea, Hinky! In the piano room."

Bellatrix walked with him through the beautiful foyer, and as they did, she asked,

"What is the meaning of the banners? The serpent coming out of the skull?"

"It is my emblem, my seal," Mr Riddle declared. "I call it the Dark Mark. It will be very important eventually. I make you that promise."

"I shall hold you to it," Bellatrix said. She went into the wood-paneled parlour with the piano as the House-Elf set up a tray of tea between two of the chairs. She sank into one as Mr Riddle sat in the other, and as she picked up a cup of tea, he asked her,

"So, my bride. Why have you left your parents' home in the middle of the night? What was so urgent?"

"I have… things on my mind," Bellatrix sighed, "and I wanted to speak with you. I wasn't planning on seeing you until Tuesday, and that's four days away. It felt so long, and I… I don't know. I got dressed and came here because my mind was racing, and speaking with you felt like the right thing to do about it. I apologise."

He blinked and sipped his own tea, and then he said, "Don't you ever be sorry for wanting me, Bellatrix."

She chomped her lip and nodded. That right there, she thought, was why she had come. She had come because of him, because of the wizard he was. She sighed and told him,

"I am wearing grey at the wedding. Asher talked me out of black. Said I'd look funereal."

"Frankly, you could marry me wearing a burlap sack and I'd still find you hopelessly beautiful. Grey will be fine. I shall wear grey silk to match you."

Bellatrix smiled a little at him over the rim of her teacup. "Peach roses."

He quirked up half his mouth and nodded. "All right."

"My sister Andromeda says she might marry a filthy, disgusting Muggle," Bellatrix muttered. She took a sip of tea and huffed a breath. "She… I got a letter from Rodolphus Lestrange, all the way from Russia, just going on and on, and Andromeda said she means to choose her own husband - either a wizard or a Muggle."

"Well." Mr Riddle set down his teacup and sat up again. "It sounds like your sister will need to be carefully monitored. We can't have her mingling with the filth. Do you know, Bellatrix, that they do not bathe and they have no cleansing spells? They're disgusting. Their putrid diseases wipe out thousands of them at a time in plagues. They die every day from hunger. I have lived among them, Bellatrix. I was an orphan forced to live in their world. They are unkind, unfeeling, revolting, unsophisticated, and miserable. I despise them."

"I agree with you," Bellatrix said vigorously. She set down her tea and nodded. "Andromeda is wrong! She is completely wrong and must be watched very carefully! She betrays our people. She betrays her own kind. She is a blood traitor just by talking about marrying a Muggle. I will destroy her if she marries one of them. I vow it!"

"Good girl," Mr Riddle said with a little smile. "Our partnership is going to be very important. You and I are going to do very good work together, as husband and wife. You understand?"

"Yes. My Lord," Bellatrix breathed. Mr Riddle's eyes went wide, and his lips parted. Suddenly he looked genuinely hungry, and Bellatrix felt a stirring in her belly. She suddenly wondered where all the bedrooms in this grand castle were.

"What's upstairs?" she whispered, and Mr Riddle shifted in his chair.

"The first floor has a meeting room, my formal office, the second level of the library, the second level of the ballroom, an art gallery, and a drawing room."

"And the next floor up?" Bellatrix asked quietly. "Where are the bedrooms?"

He blinked. "The second floor has a wing with three guest suites and a two-bedroom nursery suite, complete with playroom and… well, anyway. You get the idea. The other wing of the castle contains the lord and lady's suite. Two bedrooms, a dressing room for each of us, et cetera."

"I look forward to seeing that," Bellatrix murmured. She met Mr Riddle's eyes, and she watched his nostrils flare a bit.

"Bellatrix, I don't know if you ought to stay here tonight," he said, "because if you do, I am liable to take you upstairs to the bedroom I built for you, to the bed I Conjured for you with my own wand, and I am liable to…"

Bellatrix's cheeks went hot. She shut her eyes, feeling want course through her veins. She opened her eyes and slowly stood from her chair.

"I will go," she said. "I should never have come."

"I am very glad you did," he told her. "I was about to go to bed, to lie in my bed and think of you, and then I heard you yelling from the gate."

He stood, and Bellatrix approached him. She impulsively threaded her arms up around his shoulders, and as he bent down, she hummed,

"Perhaps it wouldn't be the worst thing in all the world if you took me up to that bedroom that you built for me."

"Bellatrix." He wrapped his arms around her and lowered his lips to hers. "Some things are worth the wait. I promise you that our wedding night will be… mmph."

He kissed her then, deeply and completely. She held onto him, letting him explore her mouth with his tongue and pressing her body up against his. When at last he pulled away, she whispered,

"What did you mean when you said it would feel like a spell backfiring? When you and I lie together, it will feel like a spell backfiring?"

"Haven't you ever found completion alone in your bed, Bellatrix?" Mr Riddle pulled back from her and frowned. She shook her head, confused by the question. Completion. What did he mean by that? His throat bobbed, and he rubbed at her corseted back as he asked, "Have you not touched yourself between your legs until everything the fire of satisfaction rushed through your veins like a… no, you haven't, have you?"

"Ought I to have done so?" Bellatrix asked, feeling ashamed. He flashed her a crooked little smile and shook his head.

"Don't worry, you beautiful creature. I shall make you feel such pleasure that you will scarcely be able to moan for more."

"Oh." Bellatrix gulped. "That sounds… but surely I will not satisfy you in the least, for I have absolutely no idea what I am doing."

"You will learn quickly," he assured her, "and I have every confidence that being with you will satisfy me greatly. Bellatrix…"

He bent to kiss her again, and she soaked in the feel of his lips and his tongue. She let him pull her against him and let him rub at her arms and her back. She very impulsively reached between the two of them and cupped her hand against the rigid bulge that had formed inside the undergarments beneath his nightshirt. She held onto him there with a careful touch, wrapping her fingers around him and brushing them against his firmness.

"Bellatrix." He yanked his mouth from hers and panted a little, and she stared at him as she flushed wet and warm with an insistent throbbing between her own thighs. Mr Riddle stared down at her with a blaze in his dark eyes. He stroked a thumb beneath her eye and whispered, "I won't control myself around you if we are alone, and I must control myself just a little while longer."

"Why?" Bellatrix whined. "Why can't we -"

"Because." He shut his eyes. "Certain things have to wait, Bellatrix. I… if you had any idea of how badly I desire you…"

"I think I have some idea." Bellatrix thought of the feel of his hard manhood under her hand, and she wanted to touch him again. She wanted to reach out and caress him there, to feel him twitch beneath her palm again. She stared up at his eyes and murmured, "I have to go. I don't want to go, but I have to go, because it's the middle of the night and I'm at your castle."

" _Our_  castle," he whispered, kissing her forehead. "I built this place because you insisted I do so. Never forget that. I certainly won't."

She smiled a bit then, feeling his fingers lace with hers and squeeze. She leaned forward and touched her forehead to his chest, and she mumbled against his nightshirt,

"You smell like books and leather, and I quite like it."

He let out a low rumble of a laugh, dragging his thumb over hers as they just stood there breathing for a moment. But then Bellatrix pulled back, and Mr Riddle told her,

"I'm sure Rodolphus Lestrange's letter expressed deep disappointment that you hadn't chosen him. I can't imagine being in his place. But now… knowing what I know of you now, and wanting you the way that I do, I find myself rather giddy with anticipation. I am very much looking forward to marrying you."

"And I you, My Lord," Bellatrix said, watching his eyes flash wildly. She nodded. "I know that I am marrying a wizard who is going to become the most fearsome and powerful figure anyone has ever known."

"Have you that confidence in me?" he asked, and Bellatrix tipped her chin up.

"I see what you have built with your own wand. I have every confidence in you."

He kissed her again, delicately this time, and he murmured against her mouth, "Goodnight, Bellatrix."

"Goodnight, Mr Riddle," she hummed back onto him. "I am so sorry to have disturbed you."

"This is your home," he told her. "You may come here whenever you wish."

She got one last kiss out of him, and then he backed away from her and nodded. She smiled weakly, holding her wand in her right hand and deliberating on the idea of her bedchamber at her family's house.

"Goodnight," she said again, and she Disapparated out of Castle Praelia.

**Author's Note: Friendship scenes with Asher! Conflict with Andromeda! The beginnings of lemony goodness! Now all we need is for Druella to come along and stir up some trouble before the wedding. Thank you so much for reading and a huuuuuuge thanks for reviewing.**


	11. Handfasting

"Can you believe the day is here, Bellatrix?" Narcissa breathed, and Bellatrix just numbly stared at her bowl of porridge. She dragged her spoon through the porridge and mumbled,

"I can't eat."

"You must eat," Druella said, almost warmly, "or else your stomach will ache and you may be sick. You must get some food in you."

Bellatrix finally spooned some porridge into her mouth and shut her eyes. Her fingers shook so fiercely that she almost dropped her spoon.

"I am very cross that I am not permitted to have Edward Tonks at the wedding," Andromeda piped up. "He is a dear friend, and he should be allowed as a guest."

"I've told you, Dromeda. That Mudblood will not come anywhere near our family," said Druella Black. She ate some porridge of her own and sipped some tea. "Now. Girls. The House-Elves have moved over all of our clothing, cosmetics, and accessories to Castle Praelia. We shall go over after breakfast. Andromeda and Narcissa, you will ready yourselves first. I will get dressed, as well. Then the three of us will get Bellatrix ready."

"I don't need help," Bellatrix insisted, her lips trembling.

"It is tradition," said Druella sharply. "We are your family. The bridesmaids and the mother of the bride. It is our duty to prepare you for your wedding. It is critically important that you not look in any mirrors, Bellatrix, or you -"

"I know. I will be infertile for months and months," Bellatrix droned. She shut her eyes. She was marrying Mr Riddle today. How was this real? How could it be that she was going to be a married witch by tonight?

"Please eat, Bellatrix," Druella said. Bellatrix sighed and spooned some more porridge into her mouth. She and her sisters and mother ate in silence until Andromeda said again,

"I still think Edward Tonks ought to have been -"

"Bring it up again, Andromeda, and you shall be staying home today!" Druella said loudly. "Do not mention the Mudblood again! Today is your sister's wedding day. Show respect, Andromeda!"

By the time breakfast was over, Bellatrix's shaking had abated a little. She took Narcissa with her by Apparition to Castle Praelia, and Druella took Andromeda. The witches landed outside the gate, and the second House-Elf, Stokee, came trotting out. His voice was a wheeze as he said,

"The ladies Black. My master has prepared a place for you to ready yourselves."

They went into the castle, and Bellatrix noticed that mirrors in the corridors had been covered with sheets. As they approached a staircase, she brushed her fingers over one of the sheets and whispered,

"Thank you, My Lord."

She climbed the winding stairs with her mother and sisters, past the first floor and all the way to the second. In this corridor, too, there were covered mirrors. There were a few paintings on the walls, and they whispered, seeming to gossip among themselves.

"It is the bride!"

"The lady of the castle has come!"

Bellatrix smirked a little as Stokee showed the witches to one of the guest bedrooms, which had a privy attached to it. It was an elegant coral-coloured room, with tapestries on the walls and a stout four-poster bed. Bellatrix could see now that her sisters' and mother's gowns were floating in the air, having been brought here by House-Elves. Her own elegant grey gown, with its detachable train and its veil, was hovering on the other side of the bed.

"Girls, get ready," Druella ordered. She shut the door to the corridor, and Narcissa and Andromeda quickly set about unlacing one another's day dresses. They pulled on their sage green silk gowns and laced them up, and then Narcissa asked Bellatrix,

"What do you think? Do we look all right?"

"I think you girls look absolutely lovely," Druella gushed.

"I wish Edward Tonks were going to see me," Andromeda frowned.

"Andromeda Black, if you mention that Mudblood one more time on my wedding day, I swear I shall Hex you," Bellatrix snarled. There was silence then, and Andromeda's cheeks went deep red. Narcissa anxiously suggested,

"Mum, since you've dressed, too, shall we get Bellatrix into her wedding gown?"

"Yes," Druella nodded. "We shall."

Bellatrix let her sisters strip off her black cotton day dress. She pulled on the pieces of her grey silk and lace gown, and she marveled at the craftsmanship that had gone into making this dress. Bellatrix had not made this one; it had been crafted by expert witches in London. Like her sister's gowns, it was adorned with silk peach roses.

The next half hour was spent getting Bellatrix's hair to agree with the style Druella wanted - a towering pouf from which perfectly smooth ringlets emerged. Then Bellatrix's crown and veil were attached to her hair, and her black pearls were fastened around her neck. Druella used spells and products to carefully powder Bellatrix's face, darken her eyelashes, rouge her lips and cheeks, and smooth her overall look. The other girls were tidied up, too; their hair was styled and their faces were rouged and powdered. Soon enough, the ladies Black were perfectly coiffed and dressed and primped, and Druella's eyes welled heavily.

"My beautiful eldest daughter," she said, her voice thick. "I can not believe that you are to wed today. I simply can not… I can't…"

She stopped then, looking away. A lone tear wormed its way out of her eye. Bellatrix was shocked to see her normally stony mother crying, but then Druella explained,

"It is a difficult thing for a mother. Saying farewell like this."

"But I shall visit all the time," Bellatrix insisted. "I shall see you often, Mother."

"It will not be the same," Druella said. "You were my only child, once upon a time. Things change. All is well. I wish you peace and happiness… my darling girl."

"Mother." Bellatrix was so taken aback by Druella's show of emotion that she wasn't sure what to do with it. She finally whispered, "Thank you. For it all."

There was a knock on the door then, and Bellatrix startled. Druella walked over to the door and opened it, swiping at her eyes. Behind the door was Cygnus Black III, who was standing looking resplendent in a sage green velvet ensemble that matched his wife's and daughters' gowns.

"I've got the candles for you girls to carry," he said. "The guests are arriving. In about twenty minutes, you should all come downstairs."

"Right. Almost time," Bellatrix nodded. She gulped. She wondered where Mr Riddle was right now.  _Tom_ , she thought distantly. His name was  _Tom Riddle_ , though for some reason, she couldn't think of him as  _Tom._  It did not seem to suit him, somehow.

The next twenty minutes crawled by. Narcissa and Andromeda changed their hairstyles a few times. Narcissa asked Bellatrix to Transfigure the colour of her ribbon choker to be peach instead of white. Bellatrix obliged. Eventually, Druella suggested that it was time to go downstairs, and Bellatrix trembled. She held her candle, which had been Enchanted not to drip wax on her hands when lit. She gripped it so tightly that her hands hurt a little and she worried she would crush the candle. But somehow Bellatrix made it down the winding stairs, holding Narcissa's hand and following Andromeda and Druella.

On the ground level of the castle, Bellatrix heard murmurs and the low hum of conversation coming from the courtyard. She walked into the ballroom, where the doors had been opened to the courtyard, and saw that many rows of chairs had been set up in the courtyard.

"Will I walk around the fountain?" Bellatrix asked. Her father, who had appeared beside her, nodded.

"I shall guide you to the left of the fountain. He is waiting with Abraxas Malfoy at the end. Are you ready?"

Bellatrix hesitated for a half second. Then she thought of kissing Mr Riddle. She thought of studying the Dark Arts under him. She thought of what he was, and what he would become, and she said,

"I have never been more ready for anything in my entire life, Father."

"Well, good," said Cygnus. "Here we go."

Suddenly, the sound of strings filled the courtyard. Bellatrix's mouth fell open as her mother came up behind her and pulled her veil down over the front of her, covering her face. Bellatrix's view was slightly obscured by the lace, then, but she could see that everyone was turning to watch what was coming. Druella used her wand to light Narcissa's and Andromeda's candles, and Cygnus lit Bellatrix's. The smell of incense filled the space, and Bellatrix realised Mr Riddle must have entered at the end of the aisle. He would come bearing incense, according to tradition.

Druella went first, walking down the aisle in her sage green gown and looking regal. She found her place in the front row and turned to see her daughters. Andromeda and Narcissa walked next, side by side with their candles. They split at the fountain, Andromeda going to the left and Narcissa going to the right. They came together again and then went beside Druella, still holding their Enchanted candles. Bellatrix let out a shaking breath as everyone stood, and she let her father lead her down the aisle. She held her glowing candle carefully, and Cygnus guided her around the left side of the bow and arrow fountain. Bellatrix remembered what Asher had told her, that the fountain was a bow and arrow because Bellatrix was the shoulder of Orion, and her eyes watered.

Then she saw him. Mr Riddle was standing at the end of the courtyard with Abraxas Malfoy. He was wearing grey raw silk breeches with a matching waistcoat and formal robe. His tricorn hat, too, was grey silk. He looked remarkable, and as Bellatrix approached him, his eyes went wide. Did he think she looked pretty, she wondered? Did he find her dress to be good enough?

At the end of the aisle, Cygnus Black III gave Bellatrix's hand to Mr Riddle. He accepted it, bringing her knuckles to his lips. He was holding a thurible of incense, and he swung it just a little. Bellatrix tried not to cough on the smoke as she stared into his eyes. He couldn't really see her, she knew. She was hidden behind her veil.

"Beloved gathered," said Abraxas Malfoy, "we have come to bear witness to the handfasting which will bind in marriage Bellatrix of the House of Black and the wizard Tom Marvolo Riddle. Has anyone an objection to the union to be made today?"  
Bellatrix glanced nervously out at the crowd of assembled Purebloods. Did anyone have any objection? She certainly hoped not. Then her eyes locked onto the Lestrange family, and in particular onto one member she had not been expecting here today.

Rodolphus.

Rodolphus Lestrange was here.

He seemed to realise she was staring at him, for he touched the brim of his hat and bowed his head respectfully. Bellatrix gulped.

"Good," said Abraxas Malfoy, and Bellatrix realised no one had objected to her marrying Mr Riddle. She snapped back to Mr Malfoy, who said,

"Mr Riddle, you have brought embers to perfume the marriage with affection and satisfaction. Bellatrix of the House of Black, you have brought flame to ignite the marriage with passion and devotion. We thank these symbols for their purposes, and bid them adieu to continue our rite.  _Evanesco. Evanesco._ "

Bellatrix gasped with surprise as her candle and Mr Riddle's thurible of incense were Vanished into Non-Being. Bellatrix flicked her eyes out to Rodolphus again, and on his face she could clearly read disappointment and discomfort. She found Asher, who looked pleased as punch. She turned back to Mr Riddle, who smiled a little at her.

"Make we now the promises of marriage that have united husbands and wives for many, many years," Abraxas Malfoy was saying. He pulled out two ribbons from his robe - a black one and a silver one. Bellatrix held out her right hand, and Mr Riddle carefully took it. Mr Malfoy asked,

"Tom Marvolo Riddle, make you a promise unto this witch to adore her ferociously, in fair times and difficult times? Make you a promise unto this witch to protect her from harm wherever you are able? Make you a promise to unto this witch to be a loyal and devoted husband in every conceivable manner?"

"I do make these promises," Mr Riddle nodded. He pushed a plain gold ring onto Bellatrix's finger, and the metal was cold against her skin. Bellatrix's stomach twisted with anxiety and happiness swirled together. She listened and smiled a little as Mr Malfoy asked,

"Bellatrix of the House of Black, make you a promise unto this wizard to adore him ferociously, in fair times and difficult times? Make you a promise unto this wizard to make him comfortable and happy wherever you are able? Make you a promise unto this wizard to be a loyal and devoted wife in every conceivable manner?"

"I do make these promises," Bellatrix said, her voice trembling. She reached into the pocket of her gown, pulled out Mr Riddle's plain gold ring, and she pushed it onto his finger.

"These two do I bind," said Mr Malfoy. "As I wend the ribbon, I entreat the couple to make their sealing vows in the ancient tongue."

Bellatrix cleared her throat. Mr Riddle gave her a reassuring nod as Mr Malfoy began to wind the ribbons around their hands and wrists. She and Mr Riddle said together,

" _Anima mea tua est. Vitam meam tuus est. Cor meum tuus est. Nunc et in perpetuum, et nos unum sumus._ "

The ribbons that had been wound around their hands glowed for a moment, and those assembled in the seats chanted,

" _Unifica Maxima. Unifica Maxima. Unifica Maxima._ "

Bellatrix felt a thud inside of her chest, and she knew that thick, deep magic had taken place. She swallowed hard as Mr Malfoy unwound the ribbons and pulled them off, and then he said,

"Unfurl the veil from your bride and place upon her a kiss, now that you and she are husband and wife."

Everyone began to applaud and cheer then, and Bellatrix's heart raced. Mr Riddle peeled back Bellatrix's veil and took her face carefully in his hands. He bent down and kissed her, very delicately at first, then a little more deeply. People cheered more loudly, and he murmured against her mouth,

"More later. Promise."

"Mmph." Bellatrix realised that tonight she would lie with him, and her heart went faster than ever.

Everyone went to the ballroom for food and dancing then, and Bellatrix and Mr Riddle were immediately swamped with well-wishers. The Crabbes and the Goyles, if they bore any hard feelings about the courting process, were surprisingly gracious about it. The Greengrasses couldn't stop talking about the castle and how magnificent it was.

"Really, a feat of incredibly impressive construction," said Mr Greengrass. "The stonework and the stained glass… it is all magnificent. And situated right on the sea. It is stunning, truly."

"I should like to have you out again soon sometime," said Mr Riddle to Mr Greengrass. "You and I were not close in school; you were five years younger. But I should like to discuss some of my ideas for wizarding Britain with you."

"Ideas for wizarding Britain? How intriguing," said Mr Greengrass, raising his eyebrows. "I shall certainly take you up on the invitation. I'll let you go for now; you have many who wish to congratulate you."

Next were the Averys, including Asher, who looked dashing in dark green. He gushed about Bellatrix's gown, and she giggled with him for a few moments whilst Mr Riddle chatted with the elder Mr Avery about the politics of the Ministry of Magic. Then the Lestranges approached, and Bellatrix's stomach flopped. She curtsied as Rodolphus walked up to her. He bowed and said,

"Madam Riddle. How marvelous to see you again. I do wish it were under different circumstances."

"I am sorry, Mr Lestrange, to have disappointed you," Bellatrix said awkwardly. "I'm glad you got here safely from Russia."

"As it happens," said Rodolphus, tightening his lips, "I was expelled from Russia. All the British diplomats were. You see, Russia's magical community has decided that Muggles are not worthy of living, and they have decided to attack them."

"Oh, well. They sound very advanced in Russia," said Mr Riddle. Rodolphus sighed. He licked his lip and said,

"It is the position of the Ministry of Magic, here in Britain, that the Russian view of Muggles is not to be tolerated in the slightest. We are severing all diplomatic ties with Russia over this issue."

"Does that leave you without a job?" Bellatrix asked bluntly. Rodolphus looked around and said,

"It does. I'm sure I'll be granted a different position in the Ministry. If I may speak plainly, I am… disappointed with our government. You see, the Russians are taking proactive steps to protect their witches and wizards from harm. That is why they are attacking Muggle communities. It's very complicated. But our government only sees the 'rights of Muggles'; we fail to prioritise the needs of magical people."

"Mr Lestrange," said Mr Riddle carefully, "I do believe you and I have similar views on this issue. Indeed, I think we share a passion about all of this. I should like for you to come and visit us here at Castle Praelia. Come have firewhisky and talk with me. I think you'll find that the goals I have for wizarding Britain are quite different from what the Ministry is telling you."

"Quite so." Rodolphus squared his jaw. He flicked his eyes to Bellatrix and then back to Mr Riddle. "I would very much like to come discuss politics with you, sir."

"Dolph, you'll find that Tom is an ardent advocate for magical rights," said the elder Mr Lestrange, the one who had been a friend of Mr Riddle's in school. "You'll find that he has aims and aspirations in line with your dreams. You should have that talk with him sooner rather than later."

"Indeed." Rodolphus nodded. He looked back at Bellatrix and said, "Madam Riddle, I look forward to seeing you when I come to talk politics. I trust you'll be involved in the conversation, as well."

"Quite so." She turned his words right back on him, and he smiled a little. He and his father bowed and walked away then, and Bellatrix turned and said to Mr Riddle,

"You said we were going to dance minuets, but instead we're setting up political meetings."

"Do you mind much?" He tipped his head. She smirked and took his hand.

"You are going to be very powerful, and that is only going to happen if people hear what you have to say. I look forward to hosting all sorts of people here who will be amazed by you."

They did eventually dance minuets, three in a row, and by the time they were done with the third, Bellatrix was breathless and thirsty. Asher made her dance again, and then she was so tired that she limped over to the dessert table to get a second piece of cake and lounge near the wall.

"Oh, Bellatrix," Narcissa giggled, coming up to her, "it's been such a marvelous wedding. The best wedding I've ever been to."

"I'm glad you think so," Bellatrix said. She looked up to see Mr Riddle enthusiastically saying something to a group of four wizards, and she smiled to herself. He'd been politicking whilst she'd been dancing with Asher. She took another bite of cake and said to Narcissa, "Lucius Malfoy is staring at you."

"Oooh. Perhaps he'll ask me to dance one more time before we go home," Narcissa mused. Then her face went a little sad, and she said, "Home. You're not coming home."

"This is my home now," Bellatrix said. "I'm a married witch, and I'm the lady of this castle."

"Yes. You are. I'm proud of you, sister," Narcissa said, touching at Bellatrix's arm.

Over the next hour, the crowd thinned out and the dancing stopped. Conversations went quiet and eventually ceased. Finally, the only people left were Druella, Cygnus, Andromeda, and Narcissa. Bellatrix embraced her mother and curtsied to her father. Mr Riddle clasped his father-in-law, the man who had once been a school friend, on the arm, and said,

"Thank you, Cygnus. Druella. I am very grateful. I am more fond of your daughter than I can possibly say."

"Take very good care of her," Cygnus said, sounding emotional.

"I only hope she takes good care of me," Mr Riddle said, "as I think she is quite capable of taking care of herself. Just the same, I shall care ardently  _for_  her, in every way. She will be beloved."

Bellatrix's eyes burned at that. She bid her family farewell, and they left the ballroom, their heels clacking on the black-and-white marble floor. Bellatrix raised her eyes and stared up at the enchanted ceiling, at the glowing nebulae and galaxies, at the prominent constellation Orion, with the star Bellatrix at its shoulder. She was still staring up when she felt Mr Riddle's fingers thread through hers, and she heard him ask in the quiet of the empty ballroom,

"Shall we go upstairs?"

To lie together, she thought. They were going to go upstairs now to take off their clothes and be naked together, and he would put his manhood inside of her. He had promised that it would feel good for her. She had already sensed want for him. She tingled now at the thought of his body twining with hers. She shut her eyes, nervous and excited, and she heard him whisper,

"I promise you will enjoy it."

Bellatrix opened her eyes, squeezed his hand, lowered her gaze until her eyes met his, and said firmly,

"Let's go, My Lord."

**Author's Note: Whew! They're married! Rodolphus is a surprise ally! It's sexy time! Thanks so much for reading and reviewing.**


	12. The First Time

"This," said Mr Riddle, stepping through the arched doorway, "is your bedchamber, Bellatrix."

She let out a trembling breath and took in the sight of the beautiful room. It was spacious, with wood-paneled walls upon which hung multiple pastoral tapestries. There were three windows along the outer wall - two with clear leaded glass and one in the centre with stained glass in a lovely pattern of red, blue, and violet. The large bed in the middle of the room was the same dark wood as the paneling, and the curtains and blankets were plum-coloured silk brocade. A plum rug was on the wooden floor. There was no wardrobe or boudoir in here, for Mr Riddle had constructed a separate dressing room for Bellatrix. This room was for sleeping only.

"This is magnificent," Bellatrix breathed. She stepped farther into the room and grinned. "How on Earth did you manage this, My Lord?"

"I like when you call me that," he said. She turned to face him and curled up half her mouth.

"Do you?"

"Yes," he murmured. "I do like it. Will you do it all the time?"

"Of course I will," Bellatrix smiled. Mr Riddle walked toward her and asked quietly,

"Did you enjoy the wedding?"

"It was beautiful," Bellatrix hummed. "I can still smell the incense you brought to the ceremony. I can still feel your hand in mine, dancing with me. Will we host people soon? To discuss politics?"

He smiled a little and brushed his thumb under her eye. "Yes. I think we'll start with Mr Lestrange, seeing as how he's recently had this grand explosion with Russia. Perhaps we can host him later in the week, if that's not too soon for you."

"Of course it's not too soon," Bellatrix said. "It is important for him to understand your position on Muggles, and for us to hear about his experience with the Russians. May I sit in on the meeting?"

"Naturally. You are already my staunchest ally in all of this, Bellatrix." Mr Riddle sighed. His face went quite serious then, and he said, "I could not hope for a better partner than you."

"I eagerly await your ascent, My Lord," Bellatrix told him, "and I mean to do everything I possibly can, as your wife, to facilitate that rise.  _Mmph!_ "

She staggered backward a step as Mr Riddle bent down and crushed her mouth with his, taking her by surprise. She must have said something to trigger a burst within him, because he held her by the small of her back and cradled her jaw, and he kissed her until their tongues twined and her lips felt bruised. Bellatrix whined against him, needing air and needing him. Then she tingled, coming alive at the idea of him being inside of her body. That was what they were here to do, wasn't it? Weren't they here to lie together as husband and wife?

He was twenty-five years older than her. She ought not find him as handsome as she did. She couldn't help herself; she craved him like a witch in the desert craved water. When he finally broke their kiss, she murmured up to him, panting,

"Would you… will you unlace the back of my gown? Please?"

The process of getting Bellatrix undressed was long and decidedly less awkward than she had anticipated it being. She and Mr Riddle worked together to get her grey silk gown over her head, and then she untied and stepped out of one petticoat after another. Mr Riddle used his wand to Banish all the clothes, one piece at a time as they came off, to Bellatrix's dressing room. Bellatrix stood in her stays and shift and stockings, staring at Mr Riddle, who cleared his throat and asked,

"Shall I help you with the corset?"

"Thank you," she whispered. He stood behind her and pulled at the ties, loosening them and helping Bellatrix pull the corset up and over her head. She watched him Banish it, and then she took her first deep breath of the day. She stepped out of her pleated white petticoat and worked quickly to untie her garters to free her silk stockings. Those were Banished, too, leaving Bellatrix in only her simple shift. She blinked a few times and felt a little self-conscious. Mr Riddle suggested,

"Why don't I take off a few things first?"

She studied his dark eyes and nodded. Yes, she thought. They could become naked together. That was a much better idea. She ogled and stared as Mr Riddle pulled off his white neck cravat and tossed it into the air. It floated away, off toward his own dressing room farther down the suite, and Bellatrix marveled at his wandless magic. Why should she be amazed, she thought? He had made this entire castle with his power.

He stripped off his silvery grey silk frock cloak, and then he unbuttoned his grey waistcoat. Bellatrix gulped as he worked at his formal white shirt beneath, yanking it out from his grey breeches. Soon he was bare from the waist up, and she felt her heart speeding up. He was lean and sinewy, and she wanted to touch him. He bent to strip his silk stockings, which joined the rest of the clothes in the airborne parade to his dressing room. She watched his fingers go to his breeches then, and he unbuttoned them, slowly pulling them down and off. Then he was just in thin linen drawers, and he set his wand down on the table beside Bellatrix's bed.

She was aware, suddenly, that he had an erection. He was bulging in his drawers, and she wondered if he was just excited by the idea of what they were here to do. Bellatrix knew that her own body had come awake for him, and she couldn't help wondering if he wanted her as badly as she wanted him.

"Bellatrix."

She raised her eyes to him, realising quickly that she'd been staring at his manhood. He smirked a little at her and whispered,

"Please, will you take off your shift?"

She did it so quickly, and she wasn't entirely sure why she moved the way she did. Was it because she was nervous, or because she wanted him so badly? Perhaps a little bit of both. In any case, she practically ripped the shift off of herself and tossed it away, and then she walked up to Mr Riddle and bravely pulled at the tie at his waist. He gasped a little, seeming surprised by her boldness as she shoved down his drawers and encouraged him to step out of them. Bellatrix looked down at his manhood - his  _cock_  - when it sprang forth, and she was amazed.

It was long, and thick, and visibly throbbing. It had a purplish head, and she could see a vein running down the shaft. There was a thatch of dark hair at the base. It all looked profoundly masculine, deeply sensual, and Bellatrix flushed very wet between her legs.

"May I touch it?" she asked quietly, staring. Mr Riddle cupped her breast in his hand, and he said in a gentle voice,

"You and I are meant to touch one another now. Hmm?"

"Yes." Bellatrix's eyes fluttered shut for a moment, because his fingers felt so good massaging the tissue of her breast. His thumb dragged over her nipple, and she whimpered. She curled her own hand around the base of Mr Riddle's cock and felt him twitch, and then he covered her hand with his and showed her how to pump up and down. She felt his skin moving along his shaft, felt his hand over hers as he guided her, and she moaned.

This was incredible, she thought. Was this what lying with a man was like? All of this touching and tingling? It was delightful. Her whole body flushed warm, and she whispered,

"I like this."

"We haven't even begun," Mr Riddle laughed. Bellatrix stared up at him, and she begged him,

"Then begin, because I want you very badly, My Lord."

"Oh. Precious creature." He guided her over to the bed, and Bellatrix climbed up onto the plum blankets with him. She lay on her side and felt the bed compress as he arranged himself behind her. Then his arm curled around her, and suddenly his lips were beside Bellatrix's ear. She felt the prod of his erection against her back, and his voice said quietly into her ear, "Let me bring you pleasure before I… you know."

"What sort of pleasure?" Bellatrix asked, her voice breathy to her own ear. She tipped her head back and felt Mr Riddle's lips on her neck, suckling at her skin there. Bellatrix moaned and writhed, feeling very alive. Fingertips touched between her legs then, surprising her as they went between the thatch of hair there.

"You are so very beautiful, Bellatrix," Mr Riddle said softly against Bellatrix's neck. "So beautiful."

"Mmm," she hummed. His fingers pushed against her womanhood, and she sucked in air hard through clenched teeth. She felt his touch, gentler than she could imagine, and she shut her eyes to examine what he was doing. His fingers were sliding along the slick folds of her entrance, and then he was pressing the pads of his thumb to the nub at the top. Bellatrix breathed, shaky and deep, and she turned her head a little. Mr Riddle met her mouth with his, and as he kissed her lips, his erection ground against Bellatrix's back. She felt herself flush very wet indeed, and she moaned against his mouth. She was sopping wet beneath his touch, which was beginning to quicken.

Suddenly Bellatrix felt a knuckle around the entrance of her womanhood, moving in a swirling, slow motion. He was stimulating the walls that she'd never given terribly much attention. Bellatrix gasped, and when she pulled back, she rolled onto her back and stared up at Mr Riddle. His member - his  _cock_  - stood at attention as he lay beside Bellatrix. He kept touching her like he'd been doing, but now he gazed down at her and murmured again,

"How very beautiful you are."

He pressed at the nub again, the very sensitive spot, and he drew circles there. Bellatrix wrenched his eyes tightly shut. Everything was going very tight inside of her, as though someone were stretching a string inside of her. Bellatrix gnawed her lip and felt Mr Riddle's left hand go to her chest. She arched up when he massaged her breast tissue and pinched at her peaked nipple.

"So beautiful," he whispered again.

"My Lord!" she cried at last. "I'm going to… I can't…"

"Yes," he said very kindly. "Yes, Bellatrix. Finish for me. Lovely creature."

"My Lord," she gasped, for his touch was too much then. His hand on her breast, the other hand between her legs. It was too much. She gripped at the blanket and arched up again, and she yelped. Her ears went searing hot and rang loudly, and she saw spots behind her eyelids. Her veins scorched with the fire of satisfaction. Her body was clenching, she could feel, with contractions that felt so wonderful Bellatrix could hardly think. Mr Riddle rubbed at her thigh as she came down from her high, soothing her. Bellatrix felt beads of sweat forming at her hairline, and she whispered,

"What was  _that?_ "

"That," Mr Riddle said, kissing her lips softly and cleaning his hand on the blanket, "is what all this is meant to feel like. That is pleasure. I mean to give you pleasure all the time, Bellatrix. Whenever you want it."

"I want that again very soon," Bellatrix promised him. He kissed her again, and he let out a low rumble of a laugh.

"I should like to be inside of you now," he said, "if you will permit it."

"Yes." She felt awfully nervous then, though perhaps not as nervous as she'd anticipated being. Bellatrix wondered just exactly how this was going to work, how precisely the mechanics of this were going to play out. Mr Riddle seemed to know what she was pondering, for he moved above her and propped himself up on his hands, and he said in a quiet voice,

"I think, for tonight, it would be best to keep things simple. There will be many opportunities for this act to become far more complex, but for now, let us perhaps not overcomplicate it, all right?"

"All right," Bellatrix nodded, staring up at him and thinking that he was so handsome she could just die here beneath him and be happy. His throat bobbed, and he moved onto one arm as he seized his cock in his hand.

"Part your legs for me," he said. Then he added, "Your body is ready. This won't hurt too badly. Next time it won't hurt at all. I promise to be gentle."

"My Lord?" Bellatrix whispered, and he blinked down at her. She acted on instinct then, curling her legs up around his hips as his cock touched against her entrance. She took a tremulous breath and reminded him, "We're having meetings soon. To discuss politics with people, to spread your message. To promote your ascent. To help you become powerful. And I want nothing more in all the world than to help you become powerful, My Lord."

"Oh." He shut his eyes and seemed profoundly affected as he went back onto both arms. He bent and touched his forehead to Bellatrix's, and he murmured, "I am  _exceedingly_  glad to have married you, Bella."

_Bella._  She gasped at that, and then she gasped again, for he'd pushed into her body. She instantly began to cry, feeling a rip and a tear within her. It did hurt, and she dug her fists against the blankets for a moment.

"Hold onto me," Mr Riddle mumbled. "Bella, hold me."

"Yes." She grappled for his biceps, taking hold of his lean arms and then soaking in the deep kiss he gave her. His tongue meshed against hers, dragging along the roof of her mouth. She groaned with need and lingering pain as he pulled out and pushed back in, repeating the motion a few times. Bellatrix squeezed his arms so hard she worried she was hurting him, but he did not complain. Instead he just pumped his hips against her, and soon enough it began to feel genuinely good. Smooth, silky motions. In and out, in and out. He was still kissing her, and Bellatrix reached up to pull at the ribbon holding his hair into a queue. His hair tumbled down around their faces, and Bellatrix dragged her fingers through it.

She started kissing him back, started circling her hips where she lay, and soon enough it began to feel so good that she could feel that familiar pressure building within her again.  _Pleasure._  Her body liked this. Her body liked him. She wanted as much of him as she could get, and he'd told her that she would have him often. Well, good, she thought. She wanted him all the time. She wanted him to touch her. She wanted to touch his cock. She wanted to bring him pleasure, too. Did he feel pleasure right now?

"Bella." He ripped his mouth from hers, and his dark eyes flashed wildly. Yes, she thought. He was feeling pleasure. She felt him jerk his hips roughly a few times, so hard that she yelped a little, and then his face twisted as if he were in terrible pain. But Bellatrix knew better now. He was not in pain; he was finding his satisfaction. He pulsed and twitched inside of her, and his breath seethed through his teeth. Bellatrix stroked at his arms and watched his high dissipate, watched the rise and fall of his chest slow. Eventually he pulled out of her, and she was surprised to feel a trickle of fluid follow him. What was that, she wondered? She reached between her legs and touched, feeling something warm and sticky.

"A wizard's seed is the product of his pleasure," said Mr Riddle rather breathlessly. "It is a bit of a mess, I'm afraid."

He climbed off of her and reached for his wand, aiming it out the door.

" _Accio_ nightgown for Bellatrix.  _Accio_  my nightshirt." He turned toward Bellatrix and aimed his wand at her, murmuring a few Scouring spells. Bellatrix felt herself go clean between her legs and on her fingers. Was his seed still inside of her, she wondered? Was that the ingredient needed to create a child? She gulped hard. Would she become a mother after what they had done tonight? Was that what she wanted? Did it matter?

Mr Riddle caught the nightclothes that had come soaring into the bedchamber, and he passed Bellatrix her nightgown. She pulled it over her head and began to arrange herself under the blankets. Mr Riddle cleared his throat as he yanked on his own nightshirt, and he told her,

"My own bedroom is nearby. Just down the corridor. Please do alert me if you find that you need anything, it being your first night in the castle."

"You're not staying?" Bellatrix asked, and Mr Riddle crumpled his brows. Bellatrix gave him a confused look. "My parents sleep in one bed, in one bedroom. Why do you and I have separate bedrooms?"

"I thought… I just thought you might want some privacy," Mr Riddle said, "since we've got the space."

"Oh." Bellatrix licked her lip. She thought of the way he'd danced minuets with her, the way he'd looked holding incense during their ceremony. She thought of how he'd kissed her in front of everyone. She thought of the way he'd talked to Rodolphus Lestrange about politics. She thought of him moving above her, pulsing within her, and she shivered. She shook her head and insisted, "I do not require privacy from you, My Lord."

"No?" He reached to pull pins from Bellatrix's hairstyle, and once he'd pulled about a dozen pins out and set them on the table, she shook out her natural curls, and he asked, "Shall I stay?"

"Yes, please," Bellatrix whispered. He smiled a little, and he tucked himself under the blankets with her. He wandlessly drew the curtains shut on the bed, and Bellatrix stared at him in the darkness. They lay on their sides, facing one another, and she whispered, "We are going to work together to promote your ascent, My Lord. You are going to become very powerful."

"Your education begins tomorrow," he informed her. "I should like to begin by teaching you Occlumency."

"Occlumency?" Bellatrix pushed herself up onto one elbow. She smirked. "Oh, if Albus Dumbledore knew that I was not only leaving school and had married Tom Riddle, but that I am going to begin this sort of study."

"As if I have ever cared a lick about Dumbledore's opinion," Mr Riddle said, rolling his eyes a little. He stroked at Bellatrix's arm and said again, "I am exceptionally happy to have married you."

Bellatrix nodded. "And I you, My Lord. I am… I am very grateful. So very grateful that you presented yourself as a suitor."

"Get some sleep, Bella," Mr Riddle said softly, brushing his knuckles under her eye. "Tomorrow you'll be mentally exhausted by your Occlumency study. But I do promise you a good breakfast first."

"Here, in the castle you made with the sheer power of your magic," Bellatrix mused, and he smirked. She leaned closer and kissed his lips carefully, and then she whispered, "I am very happy to be your lady."

"Goodnight… beautiful, intelligent, wondrous creature," he murmured onto her mouth, and she took a breath before answering him,

"Goodnight, My Lord."

She curled up against his body and let him pull the blankets up onto them, and she shut her eyes, the day's exhaustion quickly washing over her. Within a few moments, she was lost entirely to sleep.

**Author's Note: I do apologize very sincerely for the terrible delay in updating. I have spent the last several days inpatient in the hospital with a rather serious medical condition. I will be following up with doctors over the next week or so to figure out more about what's going on. I will update as often as I possibly can and appreciate your patience. Thanks for reading.**


	13. Cerulean Blue

Bellatrix came walking into the piano room and curtsied to her husband. She had pulled her hair into a tight braid over one shoulder and had dressed in a simple black cotton dress. This morning, waking next to him had been bliss. He had smiled at her and had kissed her forehead before getting out of the bed for the day. Bellatrix had reluctantly pulled herself out of the bed and had gone to her dressing room before heading downstairs for a quiet breakfast of toast with milk and crisped back bacon. Now Bellatrix was in the piano room, and Mr Riddle slowly stood from the divan where he'd been sitting. He had a steaming cup of tea before him.

"Good morning. My bride." He bowed his head to her, and Bellatrix walked toward him. She took his hands in hers and hummed,

"Last night was the best sleep I've ever gotten, and the first time I've ever slept with anybody else."

"And how was your breakfast, thou lady of the castle?" Mr Riddle asked. Bellatrix curled up her lips and promised,

"It was satisfying. Not as satisfying as you were, My Lord."

He raised his eyebrows and smirked, bringing one of her hands to his lips and kissing her knuckles. "Shall we get to work? Shall we begin on Occlumency? Your very first lesson."

"Yes. We shall." Bellatrix went over to the twin divans that were facing one another, but he took hold of her elbow and suggested,

"Let's go for a walk whilst we discuss the theory of Occlumency."

Bellatrix let him take her hand in hers, and she let a look of surprise cross her face as the two of them walked out of the piano room and through the parlour. Out the grand front doors they went, and down the steps, and out through the gated front lawn. Bellatrix walked with Mr Riddle through the gates, and then the sound of the crashing sea hit her. Bellatrix gasped as she saw the view of the sea below the cliffs, and she murmured,

"It is so beautiful here."

"I Vanished my old cottage," Mr Riddle said, "when I Conjured the castle. I thought about building the castle somewhere else, but I decided that I very much liked this location. It was you, you understand. You asked me about the sea here, about its colour. And I talked with you about the sea here at Emelle, and I reckoned our castle must be here."

"Yes," Bellatrix said quietly, her braid blowing a little in the wind. She turned her face toward Mr Riddle and squinted at him through the sunlight. "Cerulean blue. Right now the sea is cerulean blue."

"So it is." He flicked his eyes out to the water and then back to her. "I find myself distracted from the ocean by a far prettier sight, I must confess."

Bellatrix rolled her eyes a little and told him, "I still can't figure out how you've managed this. How you've created this castle. Will you reveal it to me? The way that you've Conjured all of this? The ballroom with the Enchanted ceiling? How did you do it?"

"It was complicated spellwork," Mr Riddle nodded. "Every day that I was building, I was Conjuring stone and moving it into place. I was using Charms to create effects like the ballroom ceiling. Some of the Conjuring - the chairs, the fountain in the courtyard -"

"The bow and arrow fountain," Bellatrix interjected. "The one that references Orion?"

"Yes." Mr Riddle tipped his head. "That fountain. And the castle is named after you, and the ballroom ceiling has your star featured in it. Do you object?"

"Of course not," Bellatrix said quietly, "My Lord. Have you a name you wish for me to call you?"

"You dislike  _Tom?_ " He asked, turning up half his mouth. Bellatrix gave him a meaningful look.

" _You_  dislike  _Tom_ ," she said. "I can tell. It is obvious. I call you  _My Lord_ , and you enjoy that. What name shall I call you?"

Mr Riddle chewed his lip for a moment and then said over the roar of the waves, "My name is Lord Voldemort."

"Lord Voldemort," Bellatrix repeated. If he expected her to mock him or object to his self-appointed name, she did not. Instead she just stared at him and nodded. "Lord Voldemort. My Lord."

His throat bobbed, and he turned to stare out at the sea. He blinked quickly a few times and said,

"Occlumency. We should begin our study of Occlumency."

"When did you learn Legilimency and Occlumency?" Bellatrix asked. Mr Riddle licked his lip and continued staring out at the sea as he said,

"I was born with my Legilimency abilities. Even as an orphaned urchin, I could see right into the minds of the Muggles around me. I honed the ability at Hogwarts, and through study with Restricted books, I learnt to defend myself with Occlumency. So, you might say that I am entirely self-taught."

"Is it very difficult?" Bellatrix asked. "Occlumency?"

"It is surprisingly straightforward," said Mr Riddle. "It is not necessarily easy, but it is a simple process."

He turned his face toward her and folded his hands behind his back.

"You must clear your mind of all emotion, of all thought. That is more challenging than it sounds."

Bellatrix gulped. "That sounds plenty challenging, My Lord."

"My method of clearing my mind is to become very aware of the functions of my body," said Mr Riddle. "I count my breaths. I feel my heart beat. I think certain thoughts to myself -  _I am alone. I am empty._ "

"How do you shove away the thoughts that a Legilimens pulls forth in your head?" Bellatrix frowned, and her husband replied,

"You don't shove the thoughts away. Instead you void your mind entirely of thoughts and feelings. It is difficult. You must ignore the fact that someone is rifling through your mind. You must simply focus on emptying your brain. It is imperative that all emotion depart your consciousness."

"That sounds quite difficult," Bellatrix pondered. "I don't suppose I shall be able to do it."

"Well, not with that attitude, you won't," said Mr Riddle. He smiled crookedly. "You will need practise. But you can try today, and see how you do, and you can try again tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after, until you've got it."

"All right." Bellatrix licked her bottom lip and suggested, "Let's try, then, My Lord."

He nodded. " _Legilimens._ "

Suddenly she felt a crash into her head, as though someone had come barreling inside between her ears. She gasped as thoughts of Rodolphus Lestrange wormed their way forward. He was handsome, she was thinking. He was awfully charming. He would make a very fine husband, even with all of his travel to Russia.

"I never wanted him over you," Bellatrix insisted, but Mr Riddle's face stayed stony, and he said,

"Clear your thoughts. Clear all the emotion in your mind, Bellatrix."

She wrenched her eyes shut and tried desperately to ignore the visions playing out behind her eyelids. She tried to count her breaths.  _In, out. One. In, out. Two. In, out. Three._ She focused on the feel of the wind blowing her braid about, the sound of the crashing waves far below them. Cerulean blue. The sea was cerulean blue. Suddenly the buzz in her mind started to fade, and eventually the sight of the thoughts he was watching faded. Bellatrix heard her own heartbeat in her ears.  _Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum._ She counted more breaths.  _In, out. Seventeen. In, out. Eighteen. In, out. Nineteen. In, out. Twenty._  Cerulean blue. The sea was cerulean blue.

"Bellatrix."

She blinked her eyes open into the blinding sunlight to see Mr Riddle smiling broadly down at her. She grinned up at him; it was obvious he was pleased with her. Still, she asked,

"Have I done well?"

"You have done exceptionally well," he affirmed. "You made it quite difficult for me to access your thoughts. You did so very well, Bellatrix."

He seized her face in his hands and bent to kiss her lips, and when he did, she tingled from head to toe. She melted into his kiss, standing there near the cliffside, her arms threading up around his shoulders as the blue sea careened beneath them. She breathed in the scent and feel and weight of him, and she realised something rather dire.

She was falling in love with him. With the lord of this castle, with  _Lord Voldemort._ She was falling in love with her husband, with the wizard who had presented himself as the unlikely Half-Blood suitor of her father's age. She was falling in love with this man, with the man who was kissing her right now, and there was nothing to be done about it but kiss him back for all she was worth.

**Author's Note: Apologies for the short chapter. I will update when I can, but please be advised that my health situation is quite serious and requires a lot of attention in Real Life. Thanks for your patience with this story. I do promise to finish it and will write whenever I can. Thank you.**


	14. Rodolphus

"Master. Madam Riddle. I present to you Mister Rodolphus Lestrange," said Hinky the House-Elf. Bellatrix descended into a respectful curtsy as Hinky shut the main doors behind Rodolphus, who took off his hat and Banished it with his wand to the rack in the corner of the great foyer. Rodolphus bowed, first to Lord Voldemort and then to Bellatrix.

Lord Voldemort. She had begun to think of him that way over the past few days, ever since he'd told her that that was his name, that he wanted her to think of him as  _Lord Voldemort_  and not as  _Tom Riddle._ She'd cemented the name firmly in her mind. Now she looked at the boy she'd considered marrying and realised she could have never wanted him. Not really. Not after knowing what Lord Voldemort had to offer.

"I must again congratulate you on the feat of this castle, sir," said Rodolphus. "When I came here for your wedding, I confess I was struck by its size and elegance. They say you created it with your own magic. Is it true?"

"Perhaps it is true," Voldemort said slyly. "But you have come to talk politics, not architecture, eh? Do come in, Mr Lestrange, and let us have at it."

"Madam Riddle," said Rodolphus as he followed Bellatrix and Voldemort down the corridor, "I am so glad to see you so very happy."

Bellatrix smiled a little at him. He was a diplomat, and that was a very diplomatic thing to say. They entered the expansive, beautiful dining room, with its tapestries dancing out scenes upon the stone walls, and Voldemort wandlessly pushed out three chairs - one at the head, and one at each side of him. He moved to sit at the head of the table, and Bellatrix sat to his right, with Rodolphus to his left. Rodolphus smiled again at her, and she could easily tell that he found her pretty. He was staring at her, and he seemed to realise that. Unfortunately for Rodolphus, Lord Voldemort seemed to notice, too.

"What little use it does us," Voldemort said primly, "to perseverate over that which might have been."

Suddenly, a first course of clams steamed with butter appeared on their plates. Bellatrix took a shaking breath and lowered her eyes away from Rodolphus as Voldemort cleared his throat and asked in a tight voice,

"Tell me more about what happened in Russia, will you?"

"Oh. Yes, sir." Rodolphus poked a small fork into a clam and popped it into his mouth. He chewed, took a sip of white wine, and said, "There have been sporadic attacks on Russian Muggles, organised by a segment of the Russian magical population that calls itself the  _Chistota._  With the primary goal of purging Russia of its supposedly disgusting non-magical inhabitants, the  _Chistota_  work at night to set homes and Muggle churches aflame. This infuriated other European magical governments, who demanded that the Russian Ministry put a stop to the attacks in the name of protecting Muggles' rights."

Bellatrix pricked up. "But the Russian Ministry did not stop the attacks?"

"No, Madam Riddle," Rodolphus affirmed. "Indeed, the Russian minister stated publicly that he supported the  _Chistota_  movement and all its aims. Because of this, the British Ministry of Magic has severed diplomatic ties and pulled all diplomats out of Russia."

"So Russia is now living under a government which wholly backs a movement designed to inflict death upon Muggles?" Voldemort asked, narrowing his eyes. He ate a clam, and Rodolphus nodded.

"Yes, sir. That is the long and short of it."

"How very interesting," Voldemort said. He flicked his eyes to Bellatrix and said, "Perhaps I ought to have built our castle in Russia, Bella."

She smirked a little at him and said, "How then would you build a similar movement here in Britain, My Lord?"

His face went serious. He had not been expecting her to call him that -  _My Lord_  - in front of Rodolphus Lestrange. She could tell he was surprised. But he seemed pleased half a second later, and he steadied his face as he turned to Rodolphus. The younger wizard seemed awfully surprised by the exchange he had just witnessed.

"Movement?" He parroted. "You mean to build an anti-Muggle movement here in Britain, sir?"

"That is my goal," Voldemort affirmed. "Though, more than being anti-Muggle, we shall be in favour of witches and wizards. You see, the Russians have it right about Muggles. They are filthy beasts; they hardly ever bathe and do not possess the ability to cleanse themselves with spells."

"I have indeed noticed that all the Muggles I've encountered carry with them a stench, a foul odour of the body," Bellatrix confirmed. "They smell of rot, especially in the heat."

"I have observed the same thing about them," Rodolphus said. He ate his last clam and set down his fork, sipping more white wine. "I have also noticed that they are particularly prone to infectious disease, of the sort that renders whole populations bereft."

"They die in droves due to pestilence," Voldemort sneered. "Their hospitals are filled to the brim with the sick and dying, and they've no real means of helping keep their own alive. No Healing charms or potions are to be had. Their medicines are piddly and weak; their surgeries kill more than they heal. They are a disgraceful lot when it comes to illness and death, and they reek whilst they're alive."

"That's to say nothing of the way they destroy one another in wars," Bellatrix breathed. "Why, just recently, the English Muggles became engaged in a new war. Something about the Austrian Succession. In any case, it means they're now shooting holes in one another with cannon balls and blowing one another to bits with their muskets."

"They are terribly violent creatures," said Lord Voldemort as roast chicken and rice appeared on their plates. He cut into his food and took a bite. He eyed Bellatrix for a moment, and as he sipped his wine, she listened to Rodolphsu say,

"The Russian Muggles are no better when it comes to wars and fighting. They destroy one another with such haste. It astounds. It boggles the mind. They can scarcely think of anything better to do with their time than to kill one another. It is truly staggering, the viciousness they possess."

"And so, you can plainly see why it is that they must be put down for the good of wizardkind," said Voldemort quietly. Rodolphus gulped and took a bite of roast chicken.

"Put down," he said quietly. "Like an ill dog."

"Like a swarm of flies whose presence makes filthy the lands they inhabit," Voldemort said calmly. "They are a scourge. Nothing more, nothing less. Witches and wizards everywhere would do well to remember our place above them. We would do well to  _seize_  that place. And we will need a leader to bring us to that glory."

"You," Rodolphus said, sounding amazed. Bellatrix reached on instinct for her husband's hand, and she said quite firmly,

"I stand with you in this fight for justice and righteousness… Lord Voldemort."

He smiled just a little at her, his eyes warming. He nodded, and then he turned to Rodolphus.

"I…" Rodolphus shifted in his seat a bit, but then he said, "I do stand with you. If what you intend to do is to be the hand that guides wizarding Britain to a situation where witches and wizards are comfortably situated atop and away from Muggles, then I am with you. If what you seek is to lead us to a society of Magical purity, then I am at your side, sir."

"Are you? Then I consider us very good friends, Mr Lestrange," Lord Voldemort said, "and I thank you very kindly for coming to dinner tonight. Now. Do tell us more about travel from Russia."

* * *

"I thought that went swimmingly."

Bellatrix looked up from her boudoir. She had been braiding her hair and had just Scoured her face of its cosmetics. Now she bound her hair with a ribbon and slowly stood, turning round to face her husband. She planted her hands flat on the front of his nightshirt and mused,

"I do not suppose it could have gone any better. Do you mind terribly that I called you by your new name in front of him?"

"Did I seem like I very much minded?" he asked, and he brought one of her hands to his mouth to kiss her knuckles. She smirked up at him and said,

"Tom Riddle is gone to me now. I know I married Tom Riddle, but he's gone. My husband is Lord Voldemort."

"Oh. You wretched witch, you."

Suddenly Bellatrix was being pushed up toward the wall, and when her back slammed against the wallpaper, she gasped. Voldemort seized her wrists in his hands and pinned them to the wall beside her, and he bent down. He crushed her mouth with his, kissing hard, and suddenly Bellatrix panicked. She had a Witch's Stopper in, but her bleeding had begun a few hours earlier.

"I… can't…" she managed in between his rough kisses. Voldemort growled and moved his mouth to her neck.

"Oh, yes, you can," he snarled. "I'm going to take you from behind. I promise you'll like it. You'll feel so -"

"No, I mean that I really can't. I'm sorry." Bellatrix seized his head and pulled him back a little, and he blinked, looking drowsy as he stared down at her. He seemed to register just what she meant, and half his mouth curled up.

"Oh, good," he said, and Bellatrix was shocked. She scowled.  _Good?_  Weren't they meant to create a baby together just as quick as you please? How was this  _good?_  It was unfortunate, wasn't it? But Voldemort tucked Bellatrix's hair behind her ear and sighed.

"I've so much to teach you," he said, his voice almost gentle. "I want to teach you about mummies in Egypt. I want to teach you about Cursed jewellery. I want to teach you about magical daggers and nooses, about poisons. I want to improve your Occlumency."

"And you think I couldn't learn any of that whilst I'm with child?" Bellatrix said, feeling just a little wounded.

"No, it's…" Voldemort licked his lip carefully. "I want to teach you to throw Hexes and Jinxes and, yes, Curses, without the slightest abandon. I want you to become utterly fierce. Ferocious. Trained."

"A soldier," Bellatrix breathed. "You think that your movement will escalate into conflict, and you want me to fight in that conflict."

"You are my staunchest ally," Voldemort said. He brushed a thumb under Bellatrix's eye and bent down, touching his forehead to hers. "You are my most loyal advocate. If I had no one else in all the world, I would have you, Bellatrix. Frankly, you are just about all I've got right now. And as my movement grows, I shall need you as my lady, and as my soldier."

"I see." Bellatrix felt her lips go numb. She reached a little until she could kiss him, and then she touched her lips to his. He pulled back and whispered,

"You will always be first."

She threaded her arms around his shoulders and let him push her back against the wall, let him kiss her hard again before he broke the kiss and said again, more seriously this time,

"You will always be first."

**Author's Note: Again, thank you for your patience as I deal with Real Life Health Crap. I promise to update whenever possible and do promise that this story will be finished as soon as possible. Thanks for reading and reviewing.**


	15. Asher

_In, out. One. In, out. Two. In, out. Three._

Bellatrix focused on her breathing and tried her best to ignore the memory that her husband was examining. It was a vivid image of Bellatrix ruthlessly telling off Gryffindor Nessie Hargrove for being a 'wretched Mudblood.' Bellatrix had lost twenty points from Slytherin, but her classmates had somewhat appreciated her standing up for blood purity. Bellatrix gently pushed away the memory and listened to her heartbeat in her ears.

_Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum._   _In, out. Seven. In, out. Eight. In, out. Nine._

Bellatrix sighed and felt her mind suddenly taken over by an inky black sensation of velvety blankness. This was a void, a great nothing, an empty vacuous space without sound or movement.

"Bellatrix."

She blinked open her eyes and stared at her husband where he lay in her bed. He slid his fingers into her curls and brought her in for a kiss, having Scoured both their mouths upon waking. It was early morning, the grey light of dawn coming through the windows but not really penetrating the plum curtains of Bellatrix's bed. She could hear that it was pattering rain on the leaded windows.

When they'd awakened, Voldemort had insisted that they practise Occlumency, and he'd seemed to carry some urgency about the matter. He'd peered into Bellatrix's mind a few times before reminding her to shove everything away. Now he was kissing her, tasting vaguely of cinnamon, and for some reason, Bellatrix found herself rolling atop him.

She wasn't sure what made her straddle Lord Voldemort like this. Some primal urge forced her up onto him. She didn't mind; she couldn't care. She liked this, being above him like this. He seemed to like it, too. She stared down at him, her curls having loosed themselves from their braid and tumbling over her shoulders. He stared back, his own hair tightly pulled into a queue. Bellatrix noticed, not for the first time, the threads of grey in his hair and thought again how much older he was than her. But it didn't matter, she thought. She was in love with him. He was going to be very powerful.

"Bella," he grunted, and when she rolled her hips a little, she felt him firm up beneath her. He hissed and tipped his head back, his hands sliding up her thighs and pushing at the hem of her nightgown. She shucked the garment and was naked, and he wriggled out of his own nightshirt. Bellatrix rubbed against his growing erection, and he groaned happily. He surprised her then by reaching for his wand and aiming it at her lower abdomen. Bellatrix frowned deeply.

"What are you d-doing?" Bellatrix stammered, wet between her legs but utterly confused. Voldemort stared up at her and asked seriously,

"Do you want a baby?"

"What? Erm… Begging your pardon, My Lord? It's just… erm… no. Not right now. Perhaps later. I don't know." Bellatrix felt her cheeks go hot. "The contract says that we -"

"Damn the contract; I want us happy," Voldemort snarled. " _Breviter Sterilatatem._ "

Bellatrix felt a cooling sensation in her lower abdomen, and she gasped and grappled at her stomach. She wondered what he'd done to her, but he assured her as he set his wand down,

"It's very temporary, I assure you. Now. You were grinding against my cock; please do resume that activity, Madam Riddle."

She smirked just a little, realising what he'd done. He'd made her infertile for just a little while, just so they could enjoy being a married couple for a bit. No. So they could properly attend to his climb. She clutched his cock in one hand and ground herself up against the length, pushing and pulling until her clit felt so good that she snapped with a powerful climax.

She climbed onto him and rode him, rocking forward and back, tossing her head and letting her curls fall all over. His hands searched her breasts and her hips and her waist as she moved atop him. When he came, with a powerful groan of pleasure, he pulled her down and smashed her mouth with a blistering kiss.

Bellatrix lay beside him in bed and decided she never, ever wanted to get up.

At last, though, they did rise, Scouring themselves perfectly clean and dressing in simple clothes for the day. Bellatrix meant to read about Vampires and Ghouls today, and the rainy weather felt perfect for such an activity. She brought a book on Vampires to breakfast - something Druella Black would have never allowed. Books were strictly forbidden at the table as reading at meals was seen as profoundly rude. But Lord Voldemort did not seem to mind Bellatrix's reading one bit. At one point, eating some toasted bread and milk, he asked,

"Which is your favourite Vampire?"

"Oh, I'd have to say Basaldra, the Unstoppable Killer of Venice," Bellatrix grinned. "Her story is so fascinating to me. I'm utterly smitten with the idea of all these Dark Beings. And Dark Beasts. And Curses. Just Dark magic in general."

"You are indeed a Dark creature," Voldemort affirmed. He sipped his tea and said, "I saw it in you when I first presented myself as a suitor, and it is why I felt such a pressing need to marry you. You were perfect. There could be no substitution. Little did I know you would become the lady of my castle, calling me  _My Lord_  in front of prospective followers. Little did I know."

She reached for his hand and promised, "I am your soldier, My Lord. I am your wife, and I am your lady, but before all else, I am your soldier."

"Bella." He huffed a breath and squeezed gently at her hand. His dark eyes shifted, and he said in a grave tone, "I care very, very deeply for you. I hope you realise that. I am… I am probably… you see, I am…"

"Master! Madam!" Hinky the House-Elf came tottering into the dining room. "Mister Asher Avery is here. He has come to visit the lady of the castle."

"Oh. Asher? Without writing first?" Bellatrix gulped and released Voldemort's hand. As she rose from the dining room table, she wondered what he had been about to say. He had seemed on the verge of something, and Hinky had cut him off. Bellatrix followed the House-Elf out of the dining room and through the corridors until they reached the piano room, where Asher had been shown as a guest. Asher turned when Bellatrix entered the room. He bowed, and she curtsied.

"Forgive my appearance, Mr Avery," she said. "If I'd known my fiercest fashion critic was coming, I'd have dressed in something more than a simple wool dress and a braid."

"You look fine, Bellatrix," said Asher, and immediately Bellatrix could tell something was wrong. She glanced over her shoulder, following Asher's gaze. Voldemort was standing in the doorway, and Bellatrix cleared her throat. She said in a careful voice,

"My Lord, might my friend and I have the room for a few moments?"

"Yes, of course. Do have Hinky bring you tea or biscuits or anything else. Good to see you as always, Mr Avery," said Voldemort.

"And you… Mr Riddle." Avery said those last two words so meaningfully that Bellatrix knew at once why he'd come. Her heart raced as she sat on the edge of a divan and offered,

"Tea?"

"I won't be staying long," said Asher. He sat on a chair opposite her and said, "My father has informed me that he has now attended several… meetings… with your new husband. I didn't know what the content of these meetings were until my father gave me more information. It turns out that you have married a radical anti-Muggle activists, Bellatrix."

"I wouldn't use those terms, Asher," Bellatrix scoffed. "He cares deeply about the fate of the wizarding world. That's all."

"He speaks of how smelly and pestilent Muggles are. He talks about the way they kill one another as though that's some justification for killing them," Asher spat. "Your husband apparently supports the Russian  _chistota_  movement and believes we ought to have something similar here in England. More than that, he wishes to position himself atop this British blood purity movement, and I've just heard you call him  _My Lord._ "

"He is going to be very powerful," Bellatrix affirmed, "and he is going to do great things for witches and wizards in this country. I wish you could trust me when I say that, Asher. Everything he does is for the good of wizarding Britain. Everything."

"Including seeking the destruction of innocent Muggle lives? How does that benefit wizarding Britain?" Asher demanded. Bellatrix worried distantly that her husband would come storming in, for she knew he was listening to this argument unfold. But he left it alone. Bellatrix sighed and whispered,

"I want for you and I to be friends, Asher."

"You lie with a man who longs for death and destruction," Asher hissed. "You have bound yourself in marriage to a man who seeks to be the lord of a movement of hatred. How could I be your friend?"

Bellatrix shrugged and turned her face away. "Fine, then. I have never really needed friends, anyway."

Asher sniffed. "I am getting married. My father says it is imperative that I invite you and your husband. But I won't be dancing any minuets with you. Not now that I know the truth about Tom Riddle."

"Lord Voldemort," Bellatrix murmured. Asher ignored her. There was heavy silence in the room as Bellatrix stared at the empty fireplace, until at last she asked,

"Who are you marrying?"

"Clover Greengrass," Asher said. Bellatrix nodded. Clover was a dim-witted girl, plump and plain-faced. She was not exactly considered desirable, and Asher desired wizards. They would probably never actually lie together. Still, Bellatrix forced out a word.

"Congratulations."

"Congratulations to you, too, Bellatrix," Asher said. "You're the lady of a castle now, and the lord of the castle is a wicked, evil man, and that seems to make you very happy. I wish I had known this Darkness about you. I would never have become your friend. I am going to leave now. I shall see you at my wedding, I suppose."

"Yes, I suppose you will," Bellatrix said numbly. She kept staring at the fireplace. "Goodbye, Asher."

Asher walked briskly out of the piano room, and out in the foyer, Bellatrix could hear Hinky showing Asher out so he could Disapparate gracefully. Then Lord Voldemort came striding into the piano room, and he took Asher's place on the chair. Bellatrix turned her face toward him, and she said the same thing she'd said to Asher.

"I have never really had need of friends, My Lord."

He nodded, and he cleared his throat. "I meant to say, before he came… I was trying to tell you that I am in love with you."

Bellatrix's eyes watered, and she slowly stood. Voldemort rose, too, and he approached her, taking her face in his hands. He bent to kiss her carefully, touching his lips to hers and whispering,

"I mean it."

"I know. I mean it, too," she whispered back. "All of it. I am your wife, and I am your lady, and I am your soldier. So let the fight begin."

**Author's Note: Thank you again for your patience during this difficult time.**


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